


Another Shot at Life

by disloyal_order



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: AU to the creation of Save Rock and Roll, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, And some terrible self esteem issues, Angst, Body Image, Character Development, Depression, Disability, Friendship, Gen, Hiatus, Hurt/Comfort, Major focus on the love these two have for each other, Paralysis, Patrick has depression, Patrick is a mess, Permanent Injury, Pete basically won’t stop at anything to help Patrick, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Protective Pete Wentz, Reconciliation, Reunions, Save Rock and Roll (Album), Weight Issues, pete is extremely clingy, the band gets back together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disloyal_order/pseuds/disloyal_order
Summary: In the midst of the band's hiatus, Pete receives a call from Patrick that will change the course of their lives. After not hearing from Patrick in months, Pete is shocked to learn that he has suffered a permanent injury from an accident that left him paraplegic. With both men desperate to reform their friendship, they are faced with multiple struggles as Patrick's depression, lack of confidence and poor body-image issues are threatening to destroy him. Pete, determined to help his best friend escape his dark thoughts and eager to get the band back together despite Patrick's disability, has his work cut out for him. Meanwhile, Patrick faces the most difficult challenge he's ever had...learning to believe in his talent and love himself for who he is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first ever Fall Out Boy fic. I've been writing this for a while (and have quite a bit done!) but the story is still in progress. I'm really nervous about this, but I hope some people might enjoy it!
> 
> Just a note, there is no romantic relationship between Pete and Patrick in this story. It may be confused for that because of Pete's clinginess and how touchy he is, but it's just a part of who he is and how he expresses his love for Patrick. But there is a very very strong platonic love between the two. They both recognize the fact that they are platonic soulmates. Pete and Patrick's friendship is the very core of this story, and there will not be a focus on romantic relationships between any characters (although they may be in the background).
> 
> I absolutely adore these guys and this story is completely fiction and meant only for entertainment. These characters are simply fictional versions of real people and I respect them all. I wanted to create an alternate journey to Save Rock and Roll featuring a lot of friendship and hurt/comfort. So here it is.

It was like his phone was beckoning him. Pete couldn’t seem to look away even though he’d thrown it on the kitchen counter in an attempt to be as far away from it as possible. It wasn’t working...he found his gaze drawn to the kitchen and his mind focused solely on what those two messages held.

 

Patrick hadn’t talked to him in 5 months. It had not only made Pete so fucking angry but also messed with his head. Even with the hiatus, they never really had bad blood between them. Sure, things had been kind of awkward and they hadn’t seen each other for months at a time, but they had kept in contact, even if it was simple small talk.

 

Then, Patrick had written that letter, breaking Pete’s heart. While Patrick claimed it was written mostly in jest and in the heat of the moment, Pete never really believed him. He had immediately reached out to Patrick, consoling him but also being stern with him. He let the younger man know that he had always been right here, that he had wanted Patrick to be a real part of his life again and to get to know his son, but he had been pulling away.

 

Patrick had apologized, he seemed genuinely sincere and claimed he had been so lost. He had put too much effort and focus into trying to make his solo career successful that it had been like nothing else even mattered.

 

They had gotten together, had lunch and joked and laughed, tried to forget the past and move forward. From that moment on, things had gotten better. They talked a lot more, made plans to meet up and always followed through. Patrick had developed a relationship with Bronx, and the little boy adored him almost as much as Patrick loved hanging out with him. Pete had been so happy, Patrick had seemed happy too.

 

But then, Patrick basically vanished without a word. All communication had stopped and despite Pete’s many texts and phone calls, they all went unanswered. One day the phone went straight to voicemail, indicating that it had been turned off. 

 

Pete then resorted to snail mail, writing Patrick letters. After three months, he had one sent to back to him from a ‘Robert Mitchelson’. The man had informed him that the former owner had moved out and sold the apartment to him.

 

It didn’t surprise him that Patrick had moved, he had talked to Pete several times about wanting to buy a house with Elisa now that they were engaged. What reeked of betrayal was the fact that Patrick moved without telling him his new address. He had effectively cut out all forms of communication.

 

Pete would have thought Patrick had died if it weren’t for his family. After a few months, Pete texted both Elisa and Patrick’s parents. He got a response from his parents that Patrick _needed his space right now_  and Elisa sent a text after a few days that read, _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He doesn’t want to talk. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t_.

 

That had been it, leaving Pete absolutely lost and devastated. Not only had he lost his wife to divorce, but his supposed best friend up and ditched him without a word...until now.

 

Two days ago Pete had gotten a phone call from Patrick. He had only stared at it, dumbfounded, as it rang and went to voicemail.

 

Patrick had left a message. Pete couldn’t bring himself to listen to it. What if Patrick let loose and told Pete what a horrible friend he was? What if he spewed exactly how he had felt about him all along? Pete couldn’t handle that. He had been working so hard to get his metal health under control and it was already hanging on by a thread...this would cause him to snap.

 

But Patrick called again yesterday, leaving yet another message. Curiosity was slowly taking over fear and he knew if he never called back, he would forever wonder ‘what if’...

 

“Fuck it.” Pete mumbled to himself. He snatched up his phone, hand shaking, and opened the first voicemail before he could talk himself out of it.

 

_ Uh...Pete...hey… _

 

Hearing Patrick’s voice for the first time in nearly 5 months had Pete’s chest constricting. It wasn’t what he had expected to hear. There was no anger...in fact, Patrick seemed nervous.

 

_ I uh...I know you’ve been calling. I’m really sorry I haven’t contacted you until now but...uh...I’m just, I’m… _

 

Patrick paused for a good ten seconds and time seemed to freeze. What had Patrick so scared? He wasn’t...oh god no...Pete couldn’t even begin to imagine the scenario.

 

Before he could allow his mind to think too much into this dark possibility, Patrick’s voice continued.

 

_ There were a lot of things going on and...fuck that sounds stupid. Okay, okay…  _ There was a breathy little laugh that sounded far from humorous.  _ There...there was an accident Pete. It was bad. I’m… _

 

Pete was ending the voicemail and calling Patrick in a second flat.

 

“Pete?” Came Patrick’s voice, answering on the first ring. Oh god, he was talking to Patrick...not a recording but  _ actually _ Patrick, _ right now _ ...that meant he was okay, right? “Oh my god, you actually called back, I thought…”

 

“Patrick, what the fuck happened?” Pete’s voice was rough and he couldn’t keep it from cracking. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.” He couldn’t stop shaking and it felt like his heart was going to ram right out of his chest.

 

The five second pause seemed to last a lifetime. He wanted to throw up. “I...uhh....I explained this all in my voicemail. In length. You...ugh Pete! You called before listening to the entire thing, didn’t you? You freaked out and couldn’t finish!”

 

Despite everything, a small, shaky smile crept onto his face. “You know me too well Trick. Now please, please just tell me. You better fucking be okay or I swear to God…”

 

“I well…” Pete could practically see Patrick fidgeting. “I’m not going to die, if that’s what you want to know.”

 

“Oh thank fuck…” He let out a deep breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding, just realizing at that moment how light headed he felt. “I thought...I thought…”

 

“But I almost did.”

 

“What?! Patrick the f…”

 

To Pete’s surprise, Patrick laughed. “That’s enough ‘fucks’ for today, Peter.”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh in return. Patrick sounded so  _ normal. _ How could anything be wrong? “You little shit, you say it too.”

 

“You say it every other sentence. But seriously...I shouldn’t have said that about almost dying. It’s true but...I’m okay, for the most part. I just...I don’t want to talk about how it happened. Not right now.”   
  


“Okay, I get that. But can you stop being so fu...so cryptic here? I don’t even know what ‘it’ is. I don’t know what’s wrong. Please, Patrick, fill me in.”

 

“Okay, okay. I...well...here it is...I can’t...Ican’twalkanymore.” He said it so fast that Pete almost didn’t catch it.

 

“You...you what? You can’t...walk...why?” His mind was drawing a blank.

 

There was that humorless laugh again. “I have a spinal injury, Pete. It’s uh, an incomplete L2 spinal cord injury.”

 

“What the fu...sorry, really I am, but what the hell does that mean?” He needed to know everything  _ right now _ .

 

“It’s hard to explain but, basically when you injure your spine, you have no movement below the level of damage. Luckily, the part of my spine where the injury occured...that’s what the L2 means, it’s pretty low. So I can still move my arms and hands and everything. And incomplete is like...you don’t lose everything? I can still kind of feel my legs now and then. I can still use the bathroom on my own. I just, I can’t move them.”

 

Pete would have been endeared by Patrick’s frequent tendency to ramble if the situation weren’t so serious. He had hung onto every word and was left almost speechless while Patrick had spoken about it so nonchalantly as if he was discussing the weather. “So...that’s it? They can’t fix it? They can’t help you walk?”

 

“Some people can. But with me, I haven’t been able to move anything. They said there’s a chance I might be able to move my upper legs, but my injury is severe enough where I wouldn’t be capable of walking or supporting any weight.”

 

Pete didn’t allow even a slight moment of silence before he spoke, his voice choking up.

 

“Patrick, I want to see you.” It was the only thing he could think of to say, the only thing that felt right.

 

“I...what?”

 

“I want to see you. I want to fly in to Chicago. Please. I can’t keep talking about this over the phone. You deserve to be talked to in person. And I...I fucking miss you, man.”

 

There was silence for so long that Pete thought Patrick had hung up on him. Finally, he spoke, in a voice that was almost a whisper. “I...I miss you too. So much. But you can’t.”

 

“Why the hell not? You said you’re okay, right? Other than not being able to walk? You’re healthy?”

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“But what Patrick!?”

 

“But I’m in a wheelchair.”

 

Hearing Patrick say it made it real. Obviously, he had known Patrick needed one the moment he explained his injury, but he had needed that confirmation. Now that he had it, he could move on from his shock and start to see Patrick as he was now, rather than how he was before.

 

“Yeah, obviously. So?”

 

“So?” Patrick squeaked. “What...Pete! I...I don’t want you to be shocked or nervous. We should probably Skype first so you can be prepared for what you’re going to see.”

 

“Be prepared? Because you’re sitting and not standing? Are you kidding me?” He couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re my best friend Patrick. The only thing I need to prepare for is you giving me a big-ass hug when you see me, you hear? I don’t fucking care about the damn wheelchair. You told me about it, there’s not gonna be any shock. I want to see you. The only thing I’m nervous about is if you still want to be my friend.”

 

Patrick’s voice was soft and sounded guilty. “Of course I do, Pete.”

 

“Then good. I’m packing my shit as we speak.” In fact, he had just logged onto his computer and was looking at flights.

 

“Okay, okay! Wait! It’s not just...it’s not just the chair. I look different too.”

 

“What?” Pete couldn’t help but sound annoyed. Patrick could be so damn stubborn. “Do you have scars from the accident or something? I  _ don’t care _ …”

 

“No! Well I have some, but nothing really visible. It’s...well the last time you saw me I looked really good. I was skinny and I’m...well I’m not anymore.”

 

He didn't feel sorry when he burst out laughing. “You think I’m going to judge you because you’re not tiny anymore? Oh Patrick…”

 

“I wasn’t ever tiny…”

 

“Yes you were! Patrick, you were kind of obsessed with maintaining what you thought was a perfect weight. So, you put some weight back on? Good! I think it’s healthy for you to stop worrying so much.” He ran a hand over his face, wanting to strangle Patrick through the phone. “You’re naturally a little heavier and that’s okay! You looked fine how you were through most of Fall Out Boy, you’re ridiculous to think I’m going to judge you for looking like that again.”

 

“Uh okay. But I’m not as heavy as I was like...in 2009 right before I lost all that weight. I’m not...letting myself go again, I don’t think. I mean, I look a lot different but it’s not like I’m…”

 

Pete couldn’t stand to listen to Patrick talk down about about himself like that any longer. It physically hurt to hear. “Patrick,” he said softly this time. “It’s okay, buddy. I’ll say it a million times, I don’t care what you look like, okay? I just want to know you’re eating normally and are healthy, fuck it if you gain some weight, who the hell cares? I’m sure you look great anyway.”

 

"I...okay." Patrick sighed.

 

"Okay? Okay what?"

 

"Okay, you can come! Hurry before I change my mind."

 

Pete didn't need to be told twice. He clicked a button to pay for his flight. If he left within an hour, he should be able to make it to the airport on time.

 

"Flight's already booked. I'll see you soon, Trickster."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to SecretJungle88 for the nice comment I got! Thank you so much, it really means a lot to me!
> 
> If anyone else is reading, I hope you are enjoying it. The first chapter was short, but the rest will be similar in length to this chapter.
> 
> Fun fact, the idea to this fic came to me in a dream. I decided to start writing it and then a whole story started to take place around it!

Taking a deep breath, Pete tried to get his anxiety under control. He told the Uber driver to drop him off a few blocks from Patrick's new address. He needed the walk in order to try and calm his his excitement. The entire flight had consisted of him fidgeting. He even told a fan that recognized him that he was going to visit Patrick. He couldn't keep his happiness at bay and he didn't want to freak Patrick out with how giddy he was being.

 

Reaching the house, Pete noticed the ramp that led up to the porch. He wondered if the inside of the house was also tailored to Patrick's needs? There were probably a lot of modifications that needed to be made so he could reach everything he needed.

 

Only one way to find out. He knocked on the door, shocked when it opened right away. Patrick was sitting in his very sleek looking wheelchair in front of the door, looking extremely nervous, but there was a big smile on his face nonetheless.

 

_Finally._ Finally Pete was finally seeing his best friend again with his own eyes, and he soaked everything in. Patrick was right when he said he’d gotten heavier. His face was no longer sharp and bony, but now more round with soft cheeks and little double chin when he smiled. His body was thicker and more padded, his stomach slightly rounded under his t-shirt. He wasn’t nearly as heavy as he had been at his peak, but perhaps had gained back 40 of the 60-ish pounds he had lost. 

 

Other than the weight, his hair was no longer dyed blonde but back at it’s natural tawny brown. He didn’t grow back the sideburns and instead had side swept bangs, the top of his head hidden under a baseball cap once more. It pleased Pete to see that Patrick had gone back to wearing glasses, these ones being bigger, black square frames.

 

Even though Patrick had mentioned the weight gain and the fact that he was fine health-wise on the phone, Pete’s mind had kept visualizing a very skinny, weak and sickly looking Patrick. He was so happy to see that his worried mind was wrong. Patrick looked like the chubby, kind and sweet guy that Pete remembered, he looked awesome and healthy.

 

Pete realized after the fact that he had been grinning as he took in Patrick, causing the younger man to bashfully smile and look down at his lap. He alternated rubbing his hands on his thighs and twiddling his fingers together in a nervous fidget-fest.

 

Enough of that. Not wanting to waste another moment, Pete took two steps forward, leaned down and wrapped his best friend in a bone crushing hug. It must have taken Patrick by surprise because he let out a soft ‘ooph’ and seemed to be frozen in shock. It took him a few moments before his body relaxed and then Patrick was hugging him back with a ferocity that rivaled his own.

 

Fuck, Pete had forgotten how strong and awesome Patrick’s hugs were.

 

They stayed there for a while, just clutching onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Pete closed his eyes and mushed his face into the crook of the singer’s neck, reveling in the fact that Patrick was okay. He ran one hand up and down the younger man’s back, trying to let him know without words that he had no reason to worry anymore.

 

It was then that Patrick’s chest started to hitch, and Pete realized he was crying. He tried to pull away to look at his friend in the face, but he only held onto him tighter.

 

“Hey, hey...Patrick...it’s alright…,” Pete started to say, finding it difficult to talk with the lump in his throat.

 

“No...no...I’m just happy to see you, is all…,” Patrick wheezed out in between fits of tears.

 

“Same here, buddy.” He let his own tears fall, unable to hold back any longer. “Same here.”

 

When they finally pulled away a few minutes later, Pete rubbed Patrick’s shoulders in comfort like he always did. They were much more padded and broader, and Pete felt himself smiling once again. He never did get used to how boney Patrick’s shoulders had become. It had made him feel so frail, like if Pete pressed too hard, he would snap a bone. He knew he was being dramatic and Patrick hadn't been  _that_ thin, but still...he had been so tiny.

 

Patrick, on his part, blushed and looked down at his lap yet again, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck shly. It was an action that Pete saw him do way too often, but ever since they had quickly become best friends, it had never been directed toward him.

 

“Aww, come on man. Don’t get that way around me. Chin up, stop that.”

 

Patrick placed his hand down, wringing both hands nervously on his lap. “It’s so weird to have to look up at you now.”

 

“Uh, I thought you always looked up at me, little guy.”

 

There it was, Patrick’s full body laugh and blinding smile. “You ass! You’re only like, three inches taller than me! You know what I mean!”

 

Pete shrugged. “Eh, you'll just get used to the even bigger height difference. I already am.” He ruffled Patrick’s baseball cap on his head, causing the younger man to huff in annoyance. “So, are you gonna invite me in and show me around the new place or…?”

 

“You don’t need an invite, idiot. Get in here.” He waved him in and Pete got to see Patrick use his wheelchair for the first time as he rolled himself backwards to allow Pete to walk in past him.

 

“Show me the kitchen first, I’m starving.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Lucky for you, I already made us some food.”

 

“A man after my own heart!”

 

“You’re stupid.”

 

“That was a lame comeback Patrick, even for you.”

 

Patrick took the high road and didn’t respond, wheeling past Pete and into another room. His movements were nearly effortless and he was quick as hell. He wasn’t surprised, Patrick always excelled at everything he put his mind to and was the fastest and most dedicated learner he had ever met.

 

He scrambled to keep up as Patrick maneuvered through a dining room and into a large kitchen filled with natural light. It was then that he noticed how the furniture was arranged with large gaps so the wheelchair could easily traverse the areas and how the counters and appliances were shorter than average so he could reach them easier. Good. He was relieved to see that Patrick had appliances that fit his needs.

 

“You’re not currently a vegetarian, are you?” Patrick asked suddenly, as if an afterthought. Both of them tended to be on and off with that lifestyle.

 

“Nah, you?”

 

“I was before the accident, but haven’t been since and never got back on track. I will eventually though. But anyway, good. I cooked up some Parmesan chicken, just how you like it. But you took so damn long to get here that it’s probably cold and we’ll have to microwave everything.” Patrick made a disgusted face.

 

“Hey! It’s not my fault the plane took so long to unload! I made a lot of sacrifices to get here so quick, you know. Like sitting next to a crying baby. Do you think it made it through the flight without a dirty diaper? Think again, Patrick.”

 

“Oh poor thing, I feel so sorry for you.”

 

Pete was grinning so hard he felt his face would rip. “Damn, I fucking missed you Trick.”

 

“Yeah, well you’re not going to have to miss me anymore. Here I am, not going anywhere.” He held out his arms dramatically. 

 

Those words were like music to his ears. “Good, you better not.”

 

Patrick wheeled up to the kitchen table, waving for Pete to sit down across from him where a delicious-looking plate of Parmesan chicken awaited. He dug in, it was a little cold but nothing that bothered him. After a minute of inhaling his food, he heard Patrick almost choking on a bite of his. He looked up only to see that Patrick had choked while laughing...at him.

 

“You okay there? Need me to give you the heimlich?” Pete smiled.

 

Patrick coughed a few times and took a sip of water, still giggling. “You looked like you haven’t eaten in a week. Slow down dude, it’s kinda ridiculous.” 

 

“Well if you want me to be honest, I really kinda haven’t. Ever since I got that phone call I’ve been sick to my stomach wondering if I should listen to your message or not.”

 

Patrick frowned. “You weren’t going to listen to it?”

 

“Well, of course I was going to, but I was trying to convince myself not to. I had no clue what you were going to say in that message and I was really pissed at you for ditching me like you did.”

 

Patrick looked down, pushing his food around the plate with his fork. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blown you off like that. It wasn’t meant to hurt you. I was just...so lost and messed up after it happened…”

 

“It’s okay, Patrick. I just wished that you would have wanted me there with you to help you through it, you know?”

 

“No...I...I did. That’s the thing. I wanted you to be there with me more than anything but...then I would tell myself that I couldn’t burden you with this. And after seeing the pity in my parents’ eyes and how they were smothering me and trying to do everything for me...I couldn’t take that from you too. I believed all these things and became so afraid until I scared myself away from contacting you.”

 

Pete’s heart sank. Sure, he wished Patrick would have called him sooner, but his confusion and self-doubt had to have been overwhelming. “Hey, I understand more than most about all that stuff, pushing ones away because you’re afraid and your mind is telling you that you’re not good enough. I was like that once, I just wish you’d never have to go through the same thing.”

 

“I think I’ve been going through it for longer than I realized. I just never wanted to admit it.”

 

“It’s okay bud. We can get through it. I’ll help you just like you helped me. And hey, there’s no pity from me, you hear? You’re not going to have me feeling sorry for you. I exist to be your best friend, not some caretaker that you don’t need.”

 

That finally got Patrick to look up and smile. “I know. And deep down, I think I always knew that. You didn’t look at me like my parents still do. You have no idea what a relief that was.”

 

“And now I’m here so you can relax. Let’s put everything else behind us and just hang out, okay?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

Dinner was great, they talked about old times and what Pete had been up to in the last five months. Patrick was smiley and seemed to laugh easily, hopefully it was genuine and he wasn’t putting on a show. Pete couldn’t imagine going through what Patrick had, and he hoped he wasn’t hurting too bad.

 

They’d have to talk about it, to get deeper than this surface level chit-chat. But that could wait for now.

 

After dinner, Patrick showed Pete around the rest of his house. It he had both an upstairs and a basement that were accessible by an elevator. While riding it down, Pete couldn’t help but chuckle. 

 

“I can’t believe you have your very own elevator, this is awesome!”

 

Patrick shook his head fondly as they exited into the basement. “I got lucky. This house used to belong to an army vet who lost his legs and wasn’t a good candidate for prosthetics. He and his family were moving to Florida right at the time I was trying to find somewhere new to live. My apartment wasn’t exactly handicap accessible.”

 

“I’m glad you have this, man. It’s a really nice house.”

 

Patrick blushed, He never did get used to taking compliments, even when they weren’t about him directly. “Thanks. But you haven’t even seen the coolest part yet.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“It’s what I’m about to show you, come through here.”

 

He led Pete through a room that looked like a cross between a man cave and a mini living room and up to another door. Patrick swung open the door and motioned for Pete to go in first.

 

Stepping in, Pete had no idea what to expect. He was left nearly speechless by what awaited him. After a few moments of looking around with his mouth hanging open, he spoke.

 

“You...you have your own studio? Dude...this is fucking awesome!”

 

Patrick rubbed a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. “Thanks. I uhh...I figured that since I can’t make my own music anymore, I might be able to make music for other people. I’ve already got a few deals in the works, actually.”

 

“Patrick, that’s awesome! But come on man, you could still make your own music too! Nothing is stopping you from singing and playing guitar. I mean…” Pete waved at all the guitars Patrick had hanging up on one of the walls. “Don’t let these go to waste!”

 

Pete watched how Patrick’s expression completely closed down. It was what he did whenever he thought he wasn’t good enough. “I’m still going to play them, but I can play it for other musicians’ albums.”

 

“You can make another solo album! Dude, it was great.”

 

“The fans hated it. You know that.”

 

“They didn’t...Patrick...there was just a lot of them being asses because it was so different from Fall Out Boy. A lot of them loved it too, as a different style of music.”

 

Patrick only shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “You didn’t hear me getting booed at shows. It was worse than Folie. I mean, at least with that, there were cheers mixed with the boos when we played the new songs. And everyone loved when we played the old stuff. With me as a solo artist...it was all new songs and a different genre...no one was into it. The only reason anyone came was because I used to be in Fall Out Boy and I ‘got skinny and hot’.”

 

Pete wanted to both scream and hug Patrick at the same time. He had hoped that his friend had been doing better mentally. While it seemed he had been trying, Patrick definitely was  _ not _ okay. The blog post he had written had truth to it no matter how much he said it was a rant written in the heat of the moment, and there seemed to be other self-confidence issues going on as well.

 

He wished Patrick could be proud of what he accomplished all on his own and find joy in the music he created that he loved without caring what others thought. But that wasn’t how Patrick worked, and Pete didn't know how to fix that.

 

“Patrick, people will come around to the change in sound. And you’ll get fans that aren’t just Fall Out Boy fans…”

 

Pete wasn't expecting the harsh, sharp laugh that came out of Patrick.

 

“Is this a joke, Pete? Even if I had wanted to make another album, do you honestly think I could sell one and make new fans looking like this? That any record label would risk taking a chance on me?” He waved a hand at himself. “I’m fat again and I’m confined to a wheelchair. Any tiny amount of appeal I had to people is gone.”

 

“Patrick, damn it! You’re not…” Pete had to jump backwards to avoid having his toes ran over by Patrick’s wheelchair. 

 

He watched his friend leave the room and head toward the elevator. He wanted nothing else to chase after him, but he knew not to try and argue with Patrick when he was angry and emotional like this. Patrick had a temper, it had gotten better as he got older but it was still something Pete wanted to avoid. He needed time to calm down before he could talk rationally without shouting, and Pete would give him that space even though it hurt like hell.

 

Patrick was broken...and Pete realized that he had been for quite some time. It had just gotten brushed to the side with all of Pete’s own problems and Patrick’s tendency to not talk about things and desire to fade to the background. But Pete was going to change all of that. Patrick needed help, and he wasn’t going to rest until his friend was fixed.

 

* * *

 

 

Pete stayed in the basement, lounging in Patrick’s man cave room and pretending to watch TV. The truth was that he couldn’t focus on anything and was using the television as a source of background noise to keep his mind from freaking out more than it already was.

He was so lost in his focus to calm his thoughts that he didn’t hear Patrick arrive. He jumped when he saw his friend suddenly in front of him.

“Shit dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Patrick chuckled softly. He had changed into pyjamas...Batman pants at that, ever the dork. Pete looked at his phone to see that it was already 11 PM, he hadn’t realized it was so late. “I’m not exactly stealthy in this thing.”

“I’d beg to differ. You still move around as quickly and quietly as you always have.”

Patrick blushed, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Maybe I do, never really thought about it. But uhh...yeah I...I’m sorry. For freaking out like that on you. I’m kinda a mess all up in here.” He tapped his head. “Maybe I always was.”

“You know you don’t have to be embarrassed about that. I’m probably the person that understands most about having a messed up mind. But we’re gonna fix that, okay? Together.”

Patrick, still looking down at his lap, both nodded and shrugged at the same time.

“Alright, enough of that, get over here and listen to me.” He patted the space on the couch next to him.

Patrick wheeled over and did a weird kind of sideways transfer-schooch onto the couch, all while trying to avoid looking at Pete. He took a few moments to position himself correctly so he was sitting properly and leaned over to straighten out his limp legs in a more natural position. It was a strange process but Patrick was able to do it so quickly and effortlessly.

“Not really how they taught me to transfer at the hospital, but this works for me better.” Patrick gave a nervous laugh.

“Okay, before we talk about anything else, you gotta quit with this man.”

“Quit with what?”

“Being embarrassed about stupid shit like how you do everyday stuff. What’s the big deal? You’re going about living your life like everyone else, why would you think I would care just because you have to do things a little differently.”

“I don’t know, isn’t it weird to you? How I have to do things now? And the wheelchair?”

“No, why the hell would it be? You have to trust me Patrick when I say I don’t give a fuck. Or else I’m gonna start feeling like shit because you doubt me.”

“I...I don’t doubt you. I guess I just think of myself as really pathetic and that’s how I must be seen by other people.”

Pete sighed. “Well, you’re not. I think you’re doing really fucking awesome. And you look great too. Seriously Patrick, stop beating yourself up about being a little chubby and having to sit in a wheelchair. I would tell you if you looked like shit, and dude, you look the complete opposite. You’re healthy and taking care of yourself...at least physically. Just gotta work on mentally, alright?”

Patrick nodded, still looking small and scared. Pete couldn’t handle it anymore and reached out an arm, wrapping it around his friend’s shoulders and pulling him close. He knew he did the right thing when Patrick let out a small sigh and leaned his head against Pete’s chest. He felt like he could stay like this forever.

 

"And by the way, your wheelchair looks awesome. It's really sporty." He took in the lack of armrests and the small cushioned seat that probably only went up the the middle of Patrick's back.

 

He knew the younger man was blushing without having to look at his face. "And I'm the complete opposite of sporty. But yeah, thanks. It's so much better than the hospital-issued ones. Those things are so clunky and hard to maneuver. I was getting freaked out about if I was going to be able to move around normally until I got this one."

 

"And you look like an expert in it already. I was just thinking about how quickly you're able to learn new things. I'm jealous."

 

"It's the only thing I have that's worth being jealous about."

 

The comment made Pete instantly nauseous. "That's absolutely not true. You have no idea how badly I wish I could be more like you in so many ways." He started to rub his friend's shoulder in an attempt to make them both feel better.

 

"I don't see what you see. At all."

 

"I know you don't. But you need to. I won't give up until you see it too."

 

They were silent for a few minutes before Patrick spoke.

“I know you want to talk. But can we just...sit here for now.”

Pete stopped rubbing Patrick’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Of course.”

They sat there in silence for a while, the only sound being that of the TV. Pete wasn’t really watching, zoning out in his own thoughts and the comfortable feeling of having Patrick safe next to him. He assumed that Patrick had been watching though, until he felt the weight on his chest shift and get heavier.

It was Patrick’s head. He had fallen asleep and slumped over, his face pressed into Pete’s chest. It was adorable.

Something about seeing Patrick looking so innocent and relaxed caused tears to come to Pete’s eyes. He had almost lost his best friend in that accident. He could have easily lost him to suicidal thoughts afterward as well and he had been oblivious to it all. Sure, it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t known about the accident, but he still felt guilty for not being there to help.

The important thing though, was that Patrick was still here, and Pete wasn’t going to let him slip out of his life again.

Pete leaned his head against the top of Patrick’s baseball cap and tightened his grip on his shoulder. “I love you, buddy. Don’t you ever leave me,” he whispered.

 

* * *

 

Pete could have just stayed where he was for the rest of the night, but he doubted either of them would enjoy a stiff back come morning. Before he could fully doze off, he tempted to rouse Patrick by shaking his shoulders.

“Dude, hey. I know you seem comfy now but you won’t feel that way in the morning. Let’s get to bed, alright?”

Patrick mumbled but made no attempt to open his eyes.

Great. He could try and place Patrick back in his wheelchair, but that would be kind of rude. Back in the day, before he had gotten heavy, Pete could actually carry him bridal style, which was mostly done to annoy the younger man but he also had to do it once when he sprained his ankle. Even though Patrick had gained weight, Pete was positive he’d still be able to carry him. But he didn’t want to be rude, and a sleeping Patrick was just heavy dead weight that would drop against him.   
  


Maybe he could get Patrick to wake up enough just so he could help Pete transfer him into the wheelchair. Then he could doze off all he wanted while Pete pushed him back upstairs.

“Okay, wake up. NOW.” Pete placed his hands on either side of Patrick’s pudgy cheeks and slapped them, several times...hard.

He was greeted by a startled yelp and an elbow to the jaw. That was going to leave a bruise.

“Wh...what? What’reyoudoin?” Patrick mumbled, his face already contorting into a disgusted expression upon being startled awake.

“Getting you up so we can both actually lay in a bed. Come on.” He offered Patrick his hand.

“Jus’ leave me here. I don’ wanna.” He started leaning to the side in an attempt to lay down, but Pete caught him.

“Uh uh uh. I’m not that much of a jerk that I’d let my friend sleep on a couch while I’m in a nice soft bed. “It’ll only take a few minutes and then you can sleep. Come on.” He stood up and brought his wheelchair over to him. “You want me to help you?” He asked casually, knowing how clumsy the younger man was while tired.

Patrick stared at his wheelchair as if in a daze and then glanced up at Pete, squinting. “Where’r my glasses?”

Patting his shirt collar where the glasses were hanging, Pete smiled. “Got em, right here.” He bent down and placed them back on Patrick’s face. While he did so, Patrick rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, I might need...a l’help. Jus’ tired, it’d be faster.”

“Yeah, no problem, man. Just...wrap your arm around my neck and I’ll kinda help hoist you in, okay?”

Patrick did as he was told and used his other arm to help scooch himself off the couch. With the added assistance, Pete managed to lift him by putting on arm around his back and another under his knees which quickly had him sitting back in his wheelchair. That was easier than he expected.

Patrick reached down and tiredly placed his feet in the foot rests before sluggishly pushing himself toward the elevator. Pete would have offered to push him, but he assumed that would make him feel like an invalid.

They took the elevator to the second floor. Patrick was managing okay for the most part, only bumping into one wall corner while he yawned. Pete simply followed him, not sure where to go. When Patrick entered his bedroom, Pete stood in the doorway awkwardly. He had been told to place his bags in this room when he was given the house tour, but he was sure there was a guest room he’d be staying in even though It hadn’t been shown to him.

It seemed like Patrick didn’t need help transferring into bed, as he did so smoothly but slowly. After he got himself sitting on the bed, he maneuvered his unmoving legs up and straightened them out before pulling the covers over himself and laying down.

Patrick closed his eyes and that was when Pete noticed he never took his glasses off...or his hat for that matter. He chuckled, walking over and pulling both off before placing them on the nightstand. “Don’t want to fall asleep in your glasses again, remember last time when they fell off and you rolled over and broke them?”

Opening bleary eyes, Patrick smiled. “Couldn’t see for the rest of the tour.”

“That’s when you started carrying a backup pair, yeah?” Pete ruffled his friend’s hair.

“Yeah, that was your advice.”

“I always give the best advice.” Pete chuckled, and then cleared his throat awkwardly. “You, uh, got a guest bedroom?”

Patrick blinked. “Oh, yeah. Uhh. I do. Or, you could...you know. Stay in here.”

In that moment, Patrick had never looked more vulnerable. The expression on his face was mixed with embarrassment, shame and fear. He never would have asked for comfort like this normally, but in his exhausted state, the need for having someone near had won out.

Pete had put two and two together by now and assumed Elisa wasn’t in the picture any longer. Regardless to why, Patrick had to be feeling lonely and it was evident he was extremely insecure. Pete knew all too well that the demons of his thoughts were strongest at night. Having someone close helped to calm his fears.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He threw off his shirt and got into bed with the sweatpants he had worn on the flight. Never being one to shy away from what he wanted, Pete schooched close and wrapped an arm around Patrick’s stomach.

“Ugh, you have to cuddle?”

“You know I always do. I can’t help it. I’m addicted.” He had never cared how weird people thought it was for him to always snuggle with his friends. Who was to say cuddling was relegated to people you were with romantically? Why couldn’t you snuggle with other people you loved platonically?

And Pete loved Patrick, a lot. Plus, Patrick was always soft and huggable, the perfect cuddle buddy.

“Thought you would have grown out of it. Like the eyeliner.”

“Never growing out of expressing my affection for people, Trick. Take it or leave it,” he chuckled.

Patrick groaned, but didn’t push Pete away.

“See, you love it. Otherwise you wouldn’t put up with it everytime.”

“No. I just love you, you stupid idiot.”

“Aww Trick I knew it! That whole ‘playing hard to get’ thing was just an act!”

“Can I sleep please?”

Pete squeezed Patrick tighter. “Fine. But I’m gonna bug you all day tomorrow.”

 Patrick yawned, his words starting to slur together again. “I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

 

Closing his eyes, Pete relaxed, knowing he was about to get the best sleep he had in months.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is enjoying, let me know what you think! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone that is reading. This chapter we get a look into Patrick's head.

Patrick woke up with Pete still wrapped around him, snoring slightly. He should feel confined and suffocating, but he was actually really comfortable. As much as he acted like he hated Pete’s strange clinginess, he actually found it quite endearing and always left him feeling safe.

 

He squirmed however, at the placement of Pete’s arm wrapped around his stomach. He knew he wasn’t huge, but when he had first put on weight, he was shamed for it and it was always brought to his attention from fans who made snide whispered comments or those who voiced their ‘concern about his health’ online.

 

He had been unhealthy, it was true. He had been eating too much of the wrong foods and too big of portions to make up for the stress of being forced into the spotlight and what he felt was depression. He had been on the brink of diabetes and had high blood pressure and cholesterol. He wasn’t taking care of himself and his thoughts had taken a dark turn for while, putting him in a funk he couldn’t seem to get out of and causing him to turn to alcohol way too often.

 

During the hiatus, he had become obsessed with losing the weight, dropping pounds scarily quick, as if his problems would vanish with the weight. People told him how good he looked, but it never matched how he felt inside.

 

Then, after writing that stupid letter online and hearing from Pete, things started to get a little better. He stopped drinking as much, although he still had his slip ups. He had Pete back as a constant in his life and finally found out that he was diagnosed with ADHD. Things started to make sense. He worked on trying not to be as ashamed with himself, put a little weight back on and tried loving himself for the person he truly was, not the person he tried to create while the band was on hiatus. He had been planning his wedding, for god’s sake. He had still been struggling and confused, but he could see himself possibly getting better. He could see hope in his future.

 

But then he had one of his slip ups and his depression reared its ugly head. Not long after, the accident happened and changed everything. But he didn't want to give up. He tried to fight through his dark mood and worries and decided that he wouldn’t let his disability take over his life. He had lived for a reason when he could have easily died or had been disabled further. There was still a lot he could do despite not being able to walk.

 

He continued to try working on being a better and healthy person. Sure, he did put on more weight than he wanted, but it wasn’t like he was eating an excess of unhealthy foods like last time. He just wasn’t skipping meals anymore and counting calories. With his crappy metabolism, the weight probably would have climbed back on eventually even if he wasn’t sitting in a wheelchair all day.

 

He was an okay weight. He had to make himself believe that. He wasn’t thin by any means, he was a little chunky but it wasn’t anything major. He was healthy, Pete even said he looked so. Hell, the guy had his arm willingly wrapped around his squishy, round stomach, he wasn’t disgusted in him in the slightest.

 

He needed to try and stay positive, but now that he had adjusted and mastered the wheelchair, he was left terrified about the rest of his life. Where did he go from here? What would everyday life be like once he was brave enough to show his face in public? He was terrified and lonely, and that was when he realized he needed Pete. Patrick was relieved that having Pete here accepting and him so openly helped boost his spirits. Pete didn’t act strange around him because of the wheelchair and he also didn’t back down to ask Patrick if he needed help either. It was so refreshing to experience and it gave him hope that other people would still see  _ him _ and not his disability.

 

He should have contacted Pete sooner, he knew he could always count on him.

 

Sighing contently, Patrick reached over to the nightstand to grab his phone. His heart stuttered when he saw the amount of notifications that had piled up during the night.

 

“What...what the hell?” he whispered, quickly swiping through the dozens of texts and Twitter alerts. He hadn’t used that site since the note he wrote...he never got many tweets directed at him other than those mentioning him in posts, wondering what he was up to.

 

Something happened overnight. But what….he was getting texts from people he hadn’t heard from for months, which had been his fault for dropping all contact. The texts ranged from simple ‘Patrick, how are you doing?’ to...one he got from Joe.

 

_ What the fuck man? Yeah, go invite Pete over but can’t even text me to let me know you’re alive. Nice to know where our friendship stands. What the hell did I do to you? _

 

Patrick felt his breath hitching and his skin felt clammy. No...he never meant to hurt Joe! How did he even find out about Pete? Pete wouldn’t have told him, he was sure. This visit was meant to be discrete and simply something to help him ‘get back to living again’. If anyone could have helped him, it was Pete. And then he was going to start reconnecting with the rest of his social circle.

 

He had to call Joe right away, but first, he had to figure exactly what happened. How did everyone know Pete was visiting him?

 

After a bunch of scrolling and trying to navigate through Twitter, he finally found it. There was a tweet from a young woman named ‘Becca’ that was posted yesterday evening that had gone viral.

 

_ GUYS! You’ll never guess who I met on my flight home! PETE WENTZ! And he said he was visiting Patrick! MY HEART THEY ARE STILL FRIENDS! _

 

It was innocent and sweet, and Pete had done nothing wrong. But this opened the floodgates. Now he would be forced to reconnect with everyone he pushed away and at least make another appearance online. He’d have to let out what happened to him. The whole world was going to know about his disability.

 

But it had to happen, he knew that and had been putting it off. Maybe it was good that he was kind of getting forced to.

 

Next to him, Pete shifted and yawned. “Mmmm...mornin’ Trick.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes before finally looking at Patrick. “Woah, hey man. What’s wrong? You’re white as a sheet! Are you sick?”

 

“Uh...no. But...well, here. Just take a look at this.” He handed Pete his phone and proceeded to throw an arm over his eyes dramatically. A part of him just wanted to hide away forever.

 

After a few moments, he heard Pete curse. “Shit...Patrick. I never thought...I didn’t think...I was just really excited to see you so when she asked where I was going...I never thought anything like this would happen.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Patrick moved his arm away from his eyes to see Pete’s devastated face. “Please don’t feel bad. There’s no way you could have known. You only answered a question.”

 

“But now there’s all this drama with everyone asking about you and you don’t need any of that stress right now!”

 

Patrick went to sit up in order to be level with Pete, but his arms were shaking so badly with nerves that he fell back down when he was halfway upright.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. I gotcha.” Pete offered his hand, causing Patrick to flush with embarrassment.

 

“I can get myself up no problem. I’m just really anxious right now,” he tried to defend himself. He knew how lame it sounded, but it was true.

 

“I know that, Trickster. You got yourself into this bed half asleep last night. You live on your own, obviously you can sit up on your own.” Pete bopped his nose and Patrick almost tried to bite his finger in retaliation. “You’re a nervous wreck right now. Let me help.”

 

“Okay," Patrick said. He tried to sit up again, this time allowing Pete to place his hands under his armpits to help lift him into a sitting position.

 

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Pete smiled at him and Patrick attempted one back. But the smile must have been weak, as the older man’s face fell. He put an arm around the singer and pulled him in for a side hug. “Oh, Patrick, I’m so fucking sorry. Shit, you’re shaking.”

 

“Don’t apologize, Pete. Please.” Patrick buried his head in his friend’s shoulder, not wanting to ever move from this safe place. “You did nothing wrong. I’m just...I’m just scared. Look at my texts.”

 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Pete scrolled through his seemingly endless texts. It was when he got to Joe’s that Pete paused.

 

“What gives him the right to talk to you that way! What the hell!”

 

“I did ignore him like an asshole, just like I did to you. Wouldn’t you be feeling the same if roles were reversed and you found out I was visiting Joe while ignoring you for 5 months?”

 

"Yeah, but...I wouldn't have talked to you like that."

 

"I need to call him." Patrick held out his hand and Pete gave him his phone back. When he went to get out of the bed, Patrick grabbed his arm. "Can you stay? Please. I'd just...feel better with you here. If you hear anything he says, just don't say anything. Even if it makes you mad. I want to handle this on my own."

 

"Yeah, of course, Trick." Pete scooched back against the headboard and put an arm around Patrick again.

 

Taking a deep breath, Patrick dialed Joe's number. He answered on the first ring.

 

"What the FUCK? Now you call me? After months of ignoring me? You're only doing this because people are talking online. Well, let me tell you this, asshole..."

 

"Joe, please listen to me." Patrick tried not to let those words hurt him. He knew Joe probably wouldn't be calling him an asshole if he knew the whole story.

 

"Oh, what? You're going to say you 'can explain', aren't you?"

 

"I...yes. I can explain. Will you please hear me out?"

 

"Nothing can explain why you are hanging with Pete, yet ignoring me and everyone else that cares about you. I know he's got you wrapped around his little finger but my god Pa..."

 

"Joe." Patrick raised his voice, starting to get upset. "Don't talk about him like that. That's not what this is. I was ignoring Pete too. I just contacted him a few days ago and then he decided to fly himself out here to see me. You know he's my best friend, that I would contact him first. I was going to contact you soon after."

 

"And what made you finally decide to come out of hiding? Why the fuck were you ignoring everyone for so long? I'd like to hear your excuse." Joe still sounded angry, but his voice wasn't as loud. Maybe there was hope that he would understand.

 

"I....well. No one knew this but my parents and Elisa. And now Pete, obviously. But...I was in an accident."

 

There was a pause. "An accident? Like a car accident?" Joe's voice was noticeably calmer now.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Was it really bad? Is that why you dropped off the face of the earth?"

 

Patrick couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah. I mean, I'm okay. For the most part. But, I'm not like how I was anymore. There was permanent damage and I...I can't walk anymore. I'm in a wheelchair."

 

He wasn't expecting Joe to explode. "WHAT? You can't fucking walk anymore and you don't let your friends know? Patrick...shit, this is serious! I'm your damn friend and I'm just finding this out now? You didn't even let me be there to help you? And you didn't even let PETE know until now? What the hell man!"

 

Patrick could feel Pete tensing up next to him. He looked over and saw that his friend was moments away from taking the phone away to yell at Joe. He shook his head adamantly and mouthed 'please'. He just needed to get Joe to understand that he didn't do any of this to hurt him.

 

"I know I should have. I see that now. I was just...Joe, my parents, especially my mom were treating me like an invalid. I started to feel that way even though I know I'm not. I was afraid everyone would view me that way. I scared myself so much that I just kept pushing it off. I'm sorry, I really am."

 

"Patrick...fuck, Patrick. I can't believe this happened to you. Are you...how are you doing?"

 

"I'm okay. I'm...kind of messed up mentally, not that I wasn't before. I'm sad more often than I should be and I'm worried about what the rest of my life is going to be like. But physically, I'm okay. I'll just never walk again."

 

"Okay. Well, you're gonna get better. Okay? You've got Pete there and I know he's probably showering you with all his weird over-the-top love. You're Patrick Fucking Stump and you were the most talented guy in the band, you don't need your damn legs to continue being an awesome musician."

 

Patrick swallowed past the lump in his throat. Just like with Pete, Joe somehow thought he could continue being a musician. He had no idea that Patrick was never going to attempt to make music for himself again. But still, it was nice to hear Joe being supportive. "Thanks, Joe."

 

"I'm still kind of mad at you though, man. You've got some making up to do. If you so much as disappear on me again, I'll..."

 

"I won't. I promise. Maybe...we can all get together soon? I know you and Pete are in California and Andy's in Oregon, right? I'll come out there and we can all just talk and try and have fun, like old times?"

 

"Yeah, you better do that. I'm leaving that up to you to reach out about that first. And if you want, I can fill in Andy so you don't have to repeat everything again?"

 

"That would be great. Thank you...and I'm sorry."

 

"Like I said, just don't let it happen again. Talk to you later?" He asked the last part as if he was unsure.

 

"Yeah, definitely."

 

"Alright, I'll see you Patrick. Tell Pete I said ‘hi’ and that I'm not pissed at him anymore."

 

Patrick chuckled. "Alright, see ya."

 

After he hung up, Patrick leaned his head back against the headboard, feeling lightheaded. "I can't believe he forgave me."

 

"Joe's not a jerk. I figured he would. I was just surprised by his initial voicemail. But I get it now." Pete squeezed Patrick close to him in a side-hug. "I think you should probably make a post about what happened, though. Because I'm going to get you out of this house and back in public, and it would probably be a good thing to let everyone know so they don't make a big deal once they see you in a wheelchair."

 

"Yeah, that was my next step, actually. I just...don't know what to say. I don't want to explain what happened yet."

 

"You don't have to go into detail. Just make it short and sweet. Let them know there was an accident and you became paralyzed but that you're okay. That's all it has to be."

 

"Okay. I'll think of something and post it, you can start getting ready while I do that. The sooner I get out of the house, the better. Might as well get it over with."

 

Patrick had listened to Pete's advice. He made a short blog post apologizing for disappearing. He let the fans know that there had been an accident and he was now paraplegic. He told them that he was okay though, that he was adjusting but that he was still struggling with his self esteem and other mental issues. He didn't say how or why the accident happened, but let them know that he would tell them when he felt ready to share more. Patrick wrote briefly about how he was working to get back into a normal life, and that he had contacted Pete and how his friend was helping him. Because he had felt bad about ignoring the fans for so long, he promised he'd be more active on Twitter. He asked that they didn't ask him questions about the accident, but he didn't mind answering questions about his disability. He only hoped most of them would be respectful.

 

Comments started flooding in almost instantly, but Patrick decided not to read them until later. He also texted a few people back that he had been close to, but put his phone away after that. He and Pete made pancakes together at his house for breakfast and then Pete suggested going for a walk at a park since it was an uncommonly warm day for November. He liked the idea, it would get him out of the house but also be relaxing and not over-stimulating.

 

It wasn't to say that Patrick hadn't left the house in five months. He had gone for a lot of drives. After being taught how to use the manual controls that he had installed in his car and learning how to transfer into the car, practiced driving a lot to get the hang of the controls. He was an expert by now, driving all over the place to help clear his mind, but never actually leaving the safety of his car. Now though, he was finally going to. But Pete was with him, so it would be okay.

 

Pete didn't show any kind of shock at the manual hand controls in his car. He also didn't shy away from asking questions about them, which Patrick appreciated immensely. He liked answering the questions and explaining how they worked. Pete also offered to help fold and unfold his wheelchair for him when he got into and out of the car. Patrick could do it by himself, but it was time consuming, so he happily accepted the offer.

 

He really wished that everyone would treat him like Pete did. But he knew that was too good to be true.

 

They did a few laps on the park’s trail before taking a rest. Patrick didn’t feel tired but he figured he shouldn’t push himself too much. He hadn’t wheeled himself around consistently for long periods of time very often, and he knew he should work on building up his endurance before going too far.

 

“Do you only use those gloves when your pushing yourself around longer? Like, going on walks like this?” Pete asked the question while he sat the edge of a bench with Patrick parked in his chair next to him.

 

Patrick was in the process of removing his fingerless, padded gloves and realized this was the first time Pete had seen them. “Yeah, exactly. I was given these to help prevent calluses and wear on my hands. But there’s no point in using them around the house because I’m not moving around constantly. There’s grips on them, see?”

 

He handed the gloves over to Pete, who studied them. “Gotcha, that makes sense. I can see how your hands would get really irritated if you didn’t have them.”

 

Patrick took the gloved back and placed them in a pouch he had on the back of his seat. “Yeah, I can’t risk any damage to them.” He paused for a moment. “Thanks, by the way, for not being afraid of calling what we just did a ‘walk’.”

 

Pete raised and eyebrow. “What else would I call it? Just because you can’t actually walk doesn’t mean the name changes.”

 

“My mom wouldn’t say it. The hospital suggested that I should go out on some walks after I was released to build up my endurance. When she calls to check up on me...she stutters when she catches herself saying it. She’ll say ‘stroll’ or ‘push’ and it’s so…”

 

Pete started to giggle “Patrick, did you go out on your daily  _ push _ this afternoon?”

 

“I know, right? Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard? She’s so afraid of what terms she should use and if she just viewed me as her son and not someone broken, she wouldn’t be having this problem. But she doesn’t see me in the same way anymore.”

 

“Maybe she’s just so protective that she’s overly worried? I’m sure she’s not purposely doing it. Over time, she’ll probably calm down.”

 

“I don’t know if she ever will. She saw me at my worst right after the accident...how hurt I was and how I had a hard time just transferring into my chair. She saw the struggles I had but that was because I was learning...I’m good now. But she can’t see that, she still sees me as someone that needs help with everything.”

 

Pete frowned. “I can see now why you were so nervous to meet up again and why you put it off for so long. Just know I’m never gonna be like that, okay?”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

“And I don’t think most of the fans are going to see you as something broken either. You should see the comments you’re getting, Patrick. They’re really awesome.”

 

Patrick blushed. “Ehh, I’ll hold off. I get all embarrassed and anxious reading them. I’ll try and do it eventually.”

 

“Alright, but they’d probably really like to see you. And I really want to take a picture with you, so how about we do that and I share it on Twitter?”

 

He thought about it for a minute. He owed the fans that much after vanishing without a word for so long. And he’d like a new picture with Pete too, it had been a long while. This was the first time in a long time where he was able to see past his depression a bit and feel happy, so why not capture the moment?

 

“Sure, let’s do it.”

 

“Really? Okay.” Pete sounded surprised. “You ready?” He held phone held out, ready to take the shot.

 

“Uhh, yeah. I think.” Patrick wasn’t expecting Pete to take the photo immediately. He hated how nervous he was, but this was his first step back into any kind of spotlight. “How do I look?” He shifted the fedora on his head, biting his lip nervously.

 

“You look perfect, quit it.”

 

“Make sure you get part of the wheelchair in there. Just so the first time anyone sees me in it, it’s coming from us.”

 

“Fine, fine. You’re lucky I’m a selfie master.” Pete leaned close and wrapped an arm around Patrick’s shoulders. With a nervous laugh, Patrick did the same.

 

“Now just relax and smile like it’s just us hanging out where no one will see.”

 

“Alright, alright. I’ll try.”

 

And he did, he thought about how great it was that Pete was here with him right now and going out of his way to help him ease back into the world. He thought about how lucky he was to have a friend like him.

 

“There’s my Trick,” Pete said fondly and before Patrick even realized it, a few selfies had been snapped.

 

“Let me see,” Patrick immediately snatched the phone from Pete. There were two pictures and they looked more or less the same. Both of them were grinning, looking genuinely happy. Patrick studied himself and was mostly pleased with how he looked. It was clear he had filled out in the face but he didn’t look bad. The glasses/fedora/side bangs look suited him nicely, he thought.

 

True to his word, Pete had angled the phone so that anyone looking at it could see the left wheel of his wheelchair. But while there were bound to be comments on that, as well as his weight, he couldn’t help but notice something else that would get the fans talking.

 

“You’re looking at me and not the camera!” Patrick complained, looking at the way Pete’s soft gaze and warm smile was on him.

 

“I was happy to see you looking happy. Didn’t want to look away. And now that I think of it, it’s gonna make the fans go wild.”

 

“That’s what I was thinking! You look like you love me!”

 

“But I do love you, Tricky,” Pete teased, but at the same time, his gaze was serious.

 

“Ugh, yes I know. But not in the way that they will be thinking! They’re gonna make comments on how you’re in love with me and use that weird name thing…”

 

“Peterick?” Pete giggled.

 

“Yes! That stupid thing!”

 

“All this is, is me genuinely looking at you and just being really happy to be with my best friend. This is nothing, remember all that crazy stuff I did on stage kissing and hugging you all the time?”

 

“But that was an act to drive them crazy! This isn’t…” Patrick’s heart fell suddenly. What if Pete had posed like that just to make the fans go nuts and that look wasn’t real? “...or was this just an act too?”

 

Pete frowned, and Patrick felt both relieved and guilty. “Of course it isn’t Patrick. I only commented on how the fans would react after I saw it. You make me happy, man. There’s no lie there. If you’re uncomfortable with it, we can re-take it.”

 

“No, no.” Patrick handed the phone back. “I’m sorry. It’s just...me feeling like no one could ever care about me that much, you know?”

 

Patrick wasn’t expecting the serious look Pete gave him as he looked him dead in the eyes. “I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it.” Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but Pete quickly shifted gears and turned light-hearted again. “Let’s post this thing then, yeah? The first one looks best, second is a little blurry. Want me to tag you in it?”

 

“Uh, sure.”

 

All with one hand, since his other arm was still wrapped around Patrick, Pete typed up a caption to go with the photo. “Aaaand...posted.” He angled the phone toward Patrick so he could see.

 

Written in the same post as the picture, were the words:

 

Hope you guys are having a good weekend. Me? I’m just hanging with my best friend. Love this dude to death @patrickstump

 

Feeling his eyes start to water, Patrick cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

 

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. Shut up. I wanted to post a picture with you anyway, I should be thanking you for allowing me to share it.” There was a pause, and then Pete smiled. “Hey! Look, comments are already pouring in.”

 

“Oh god.”

 

“Stop it! They’re good! There’s gonna be assholes, I’m sure, but look how happy everyone is!”

 

_ OMG!!!! _

 

_ I’M SERIOUSLY CRYING RN _

 

_ OMG PETERICK! MY EYES ARE BLESSED! _

 

_ PETE AND PATRICK!!!! OMGOMGOMG _

 

_ Thank you Pete for posting this!! I was so worried about Patrick! _

 

_ They both look so good! Those smiles!! _

 

_ YES OMG my baby patrick looks so good i’m so happy to see him!! _

 

_ Look at patrick’s cute chubby cheeks!! He looks so healthy i cant stop smiling!!! _

 

_ “It’s been 84 years” since i saw patrick and i’m so glad he’s okay we love you pattycakes!!! _

 

_ “MY BEST FRIEND” “I LOVE THIS DUDE TO DEATH” i’m not crying you are _

 

_ LOOK HOW PETE IS LOOKING AT PATRICK I CANT HE LOVES HIM SO MUCH _

 

With shaking hands, Patrick pulled out his own phone and opened the Twitter App. “How do I...say something back, I forgot.”

 

Pete laughed, pressing and swiping before getting Patrick where he needed to be.

 

_ I love you too buddy. I know you dont like me saying this but thank you. Thank you for being my best friend. _

 

Patrick posted the tweet and put his phone away before he could look at any of the notifications. “Umm, how about we find somewhere to get lunch?”

 

Pete smiled back. “Sounds like a plan.”

  
  
  
  


At first, everything was going just fine at the restaurant. Sure, Patrick was nervous about really being out in public for the first time since the accident, but it was going well.

 

There were people that would stare at his wheelchair a little too long or advert their eyes once Patrick made eye contact with them, but it didn’t bother him too much. No one paid him too much attention and he wasn’t getting treated specially. The waitress was friendly and didn’t seem to be bothered by his disability in the slightest. In fact…

 

“She was totally flirting with you!” Pete proclaimed once she left to fill their orders.

 

“She was not! Why would someone like her be interested in a chubby disabled guy? She was just being friendly.”

 

“She blushed when you talked. She was asking you questions when you rambled off about the story you were telling. Stop doubting yourself, Patrick. Not everyone is bothered by some extra weight or focuses on the wheelchair. You’re a good looking dude! And come on, you know you have basically the most adorable personality and mannerisms ever.”

 

“You’re exaggerating.”

 

“I am not. You are literally the cutest person ever to live, ask all our fans.”

 

Patrick knew that all of this was just Pete trying to make him feel better about himself. No woman would ever look at him with any sort of interest other than finding him a sort-of-cute dorky guy that they could see themselves being friends with. He never understood what Elisa saw in him...what she still saw in him, despite him breaking things off.

 

Why had he broken off the only relationship he had with a woman that had been genuine? Why did he throw away something that made him happy and give up someone he loved so much?

 

Because she didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve having to deal with his not just his self-hatred but now his new-found disability. He had been so messed up mentally before the wedding that he should have delayed it to begin with. And then with the accident forcing all his doubts to be front and center, he had needed time to think about everything, to try and work through all his problems. And he needed to do it alone.

 

Or so he thought. Now he had Pete sitting across from him, Pete who had laughed and joked and smothered him and Patrick hadn’t felt this happy in years because of it. Did that make him a bad person for pushing his fiance away but clinging to his best friend like a scared child? Because he realized now that he couldn’t do this without Pete. If Pete were to walk away after his visit and never talk to Patrick again...he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

 

Pete was the only one that could try and help him find himself again. That didn’t mean he didn’t love Elisa, or still want to marry her, because he did, damn it. It was just that Pete understood him in a way no one else could.

 

“Hey, you okay there buddy?” Pete had reached over and tapped his arm, his expression was that of extreme concern. “What’s bothering you?”

 

Patrick just shrugged. He wasn’t even sure how to voice what he was feeling or exactly what was bothering him.

 

“Is it because of what I said about the waitress? I mean, I wasn’t telling you to ask her out or anything, just saying she was flirting with you. I realize that something probably happened with Elisa and I’m not trying to make light of it, man. I was just waiting for you to bring it up. But since you aren’t, I’m gonna ask you. What happened? She didn’t leave you did she? Because that girl is head over heels with you Patrick and she’d never…”

 

“She didn’t leave me,” Patrick said, a little too roughly. He sighed and tried to calm down. Pete wasn’t doing anything wrong and didn’t deserve his anger. When he next spoke, it was much softer. “I left her. She didn’t sign up for this.”

 

“Didn’t...Patrick, what? When you love someone, you sign up for anything that might happen. Elisa loves you and would never judge you for being in a wheelchair.”

 

“She didn’t sign up for all my mental problems either, and she’d been dealing with them for years. I feel so bad because I know she has been trying to help me get better but it just wasn’t happening. I didn’t want to have her suffer through even more mental issues on top of my disability.” He sighed. “I know my self-hatred has a negative impact on her too. I...I need to be okay before I attempt any relationship, I should have realized that before, but I was too selfish.”

 

Pete frowned, but reached over and squeezed Patrick’s arm. “Hey, I get what you’re saying. I think you probably broke her heart, but I do understand why you did it.”

 

“I just...I couldn’t focus on her or the relationship, let alone a marriage while dealing with all this and trying to get better. She said she’d push the wedding back but...I would feel so much pressure to try and fix myself as soon as possible and…”

 

“It’s okay, Trick. It’s totally understandable and I do think you need to work on yourself first before making such a huge life change. I’m sure she understood.”

 

Patrick’s face crumpled. “She said I was an asshole and she never wanted to see me again.”

 

“Of course she did. She wanted to stay with you. Like I said, you broke her heart. But I do think deep down, she gets why you did it. And with time after she cools down a bit, she’ll know you never meant to hurt her. How long ago did you end things?”

 

“Probably about two months ago.”

 

“Well, I’m gonna work on helping you out. And once you feel better, because you will feel better, but it will take time, you can call her again. Maybe she won’t forgive you, but you can at least explain things to her so she’s not left hanging.”

 

“Yeah...okay, okay.”

 

“You did what you had to do for yourself Trick. I’m proud of you for recognizing it even though it was really difficult to do. Now chin up and start looking forward.”

 

Patrick nodded, forcing his gaze upwards. However, he found it hard to look at Pete’s kind eyes and averted his gaze, staring out into the crowd of other diners as if they were extremely interesting…

 

“Oh god…” He mumbled, dropping his arms onto the table and hiding his head in them.

 

“What?” Pete asked.

 

“Don’t turn around!” He hissed. Even though he wasn’t looking at Pete, he knew full well his friend would look around to try to see what had gotten him so worked up. “There’s two girls in the row next to us, three tables up. They have Fall Out Boy shirts on.” He finally managed to lift his head a little to look at Pete, who was frowning.

 

“I haven’t seen anyone wearing any of our merch in ages. Why…”

 

Patrick popped his head up a bit and glared at his friend. “Because of the recent news! And our posts! It has to be. They are probably all excited. The fandom is going nuts and I bet they are even talking about the band getting back together or some crap like that.”

 

“Hey, that wouldn’t be crap. And what’s the big deal if some fans are in here?”

 

“What if they see us?”

 

“So? They might ask for a picture. That never bothered you before. Does it bother you now because of the wheelchair? Patrick, everyone already knows about it now. It’s not going to be some big shock.”

 

“No, that’s not exactly it. I just...I want to try and get back into doing normal things and getting back into the world and if the fans make a big deal out of seeing us...everyone’s going to stare and wonder who we are and it’s…” He knew what he wanted to say, but was having a hard time explaining how he was feeling.

 

“It will be really overwhelming for you and you’re feeling anxious,” Pete finished for him, putting words to his very thoughts better than he could himself. “It’s okay, you haven’t been out in public for a long time so you just want things to be calm. But even if they do notice us, don’t worry, I won’t let it get out of hand.”

 

“You won’t?” Patrick was shocked to learn Pete thought he could handle a situation like that.

 

“I promise, don’t worry.”

 

Their food came a few minutes later and Patrick frowned at the size of his cheeseburger. He forgot how portions ran large at this place. Normally he wouldn’t have thought twice, it wasn’t like it was the biggest cheeseburger he’d ever eaten. But these girls were here and they were probably going to walk past them because where they were was on route to the bathrooms. This would be the first time a fan would see the weight he’d gained back in the flesh. Sure, the comments had been pretty nice online but that picture of him was probably more flattering than how he actually looked. What would they think of how he looked now compared to when he was promoting Soul Punk?

 

He should have ordered a salad. Or maybe he would only eat half of the cheeseburger. If he didn’t eat anything else today than maybe…

 

No.  _ NO _ . He couldn’t go back to thinking like that, it was way too dangerous. He had been so focused with every bite of food he was putting into his mouth and how he could cut his calories even more that it had become a scary obsession. He remembered how he nearly passed out on stage because of how little he ate the entire week. It had been impossible to keep up his weight when he had been at his thinnest despite his desperate efforts.

 

He wasn’t going to do that again. He was going to eat three meals a day and snack when he felt like it, just not in excess. He wasn’t going to pick out the healthiest option but he wasn’t going to make terrible choices either. He was going to enjoy eating again but not splurge.

 

“Something wrong with the burger? Want to have it taken back?” Pete questioned and Patrick couldn’t tell if his friend was oblivious or if he had caught on to his true thoughts.

 

He looked across the table at Pete’s heaping bowl of three-cheese macaroni and it helped him relax. He didn’t have to feel bad for eating like everyone else just because he was a fat guy.

 

“Oh no, I’m just...preparing for how awesome I remember this food being.”

 

Pete grinned. “Right back at ya.”

 

And it was delicious. The two of them barely spoke a word as they reveled in the flavors of their meals. It wasn’t until Patrick heard a gasp that he looked away from his food.

 

One of the girls was about ten feet from their table, frozen to the spot and staring right at him with her mouth hanging open. He thought of averting his gaze, but he knew she already saw him looking at her, so he smiled shyly instead and waved.

 

He was a little confused when the girl’s eyes began to water and she started to shake a little. Pete finally noticed Patrick staring and turned around to see the girl. He smiled compassionately and stood up, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Hey, no reason to get nervous. You can come sit and talk with us if you want.”

 

The girl stared up at Pete smiling and with wide eyes. “I...I can? You...you’re serious?”

 

“Of course! We like interacting with our fans.”

 

“I...don’t want to interrupt,” she said quietly.

 

Patrick cleared his throat. “You’re not interrupting anything, sweetie. We should probably take a break from eating anyway with how fast we were demolishing our food.”

 

The girl turned to Patrick, her cheeks and the tips of her ears were both bright red. It surprised him a bit to see that she smiled even bigger when she looked at him. “They...do have the best food here.”

 

“What did you order?” Patrick asked, motioning for the girl to come and sit down and finding it easy to jump back into one-on-one conversation with someone in public. He was a really shy guy, but he was talkative too. Speaking with someone individually didn’t bother him, in fact, he really enjoyed it and often had conversations with strangers. He always found it fascinating to hear about someone else’s life or to learn how their mind worked.

 

It was when he was in large groups or had to speak to a crowd with all eyes on him that he got extremely nervous and often froze up. Pete was pretty much the exact opposite, he was usually awkward one-on-one but could interact with a crowd like he owned the building.

 

“I got the...uh...the quesadillas.” She smiled bashfully and took the seat next to Patrick, sneaking glances at the both of them before looking down at her lap nervously.

 

“I was going to get those,” Patrick admitted. “What’s your name?”

 

“Jackie,” she answered, but seemed to nervous to say anything else.

 

“I like your t-shirt.” Patrick smiled at the Folie tour shirt she wore. “That one was Pete’s design, you know. It was my favorite.”

 

“Stop trying to suck up to me Stump, it’s not gonna get me to buy your lunch.” Pete laughed, even though they both knew Pete was going to offer to pay for them both.

 

Jackie giggled then. “It was my favorite album from you guys. I really loved how well all the songs flowed together and the feeling it gave me when I listened to it. It was really powerful and uh...I’m really sorry that a lot of fans acted like jerks about it.”

 

“Hey it’s okay.” Patrick shrugged. “You can’t control how other people feel or how they will react. Sure, we were bummed but I shouldn’t have let their words get to me like they did. We always went with what felt right and it shouldn’t have mattered that some people were upset about it. I should have handled everything in a better way.”

 

“That’s really good advice, you’re really smart about that stuff.” She smiled bashfully.

 

Patrick returned the gesture, staring down at his lap. “Oh, uh thank you. I’m really not though.”

 

“He’s a freakin’ genius and won’t admit it.” Pete reached over and shoved at his shoulder. He then turned back to the fan. “Not to seem like creepers, but we noticed you and your friend in here a few minutes ago because of your t-shirts. Did you...want to invite her over here too?”

 

“Oh my god, Kelsey! Yes, I completely forgot...she’s going to be pissed at me oh god…” the girl immediately started texting her friend while both Pete and Patrick laughed at her reaction.

 

After a few moments, Jackie frowned. “She doesn’t believe me! She thinks I’m trying to prank her or something.” She sighed, getting ready to stand. “I’m going to have to try and drag her over here.”

 

Out of nowhere, Patrick had an idea. “Wait, I’ll go over and surprise her.” He had no idea what possessed him to do that, because just a few minutes ago he had been shying away from the fans completely. But...he was actually feeling really good. Jackie was nice, she had been genuinely happy to see him and hadn’t said anything rude. He had to give people more credit, maybe most people would be like her and not treat him differently.

 

He pushed himself away from the table, not failing to notice Pete’s grin and Jackie’s whispered ‘oh my god, she’s going to pass out’. Luckily, he didn’t have to attempt to dodge anyone as nobody was walking down the aisle at the same time as him. He had gotten used to the wheelchair shockingly fast, but he never got over feeling like he was taking up too much space or getting in everyone’s way.

 

He pulled himself up to the end of the table and casually folded his arms on top of it. The girl, Kelsey, didn’t even realize, as she was looking at her phone with a determined expression, no doubt texting Jackie back.

 

Patrick cleared his throat. “Hey there.” He waved at her when the girl looked up. For a split second, she looked confused, before all color drained from her face. “Umm, we asked your friend to come sit and talk with us. We thought you would like to as well.”

 

Kelsey went from being frozen like a statue to jumping up and bouncing on her feet in two seconds flat. “No way!” She exclaimed, luckily not being too loud, which Patrick greatly appreciated. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening.”

 

She was staring at him in awe and Patrick noticed her looking at the wheelchair, but he didn’t mind. She was merely taking everything in, looking at his face, his fedora and clothes as well. What came out of her mouth next shocked him.

 

“Damn, you look really good, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She then slapped herself on the face in embarrassment and Patrick chuckled. “I’m sorry, that sounded stupid. I’m just really happy to see you’re doing okay and I was really worried after what you posted. I just...can I hug you?”

 

That got Patrick to giggle even more. He found her reaction endearing. “Of course you can!”

 

They let the girls sit with them for the rest of the meal. They were both really sweet and respectful, not showering them with questions, but rather seeming to enjoy listening to Pete and Patrick talk. Not once was Patrick's disability brought up. They asked if they could take pictures with the guys and share them on social media. When they left, Kelsey whispered something to Patrick as she hugged him goodbye.

 

“Thank you for talking about your mental health,” she said, referring to the blog post. “Please feel like you can be open about it to us fans whenever. You’ll get better, I know you will.”

 

Maybe going out in public wouldn’t be so scary after all. Maybe his fear of people judging him had been over-exaggerated.

 

Some of his anxiety faded away, and what he found in its place both excited and terrified him.

 

He felt inspired. And he really, really wanted to write some music. Not music for other people, but for him...and for Pete.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, let me know what you think of the story so far.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, there are over 100 views on this story so far! Thank you to everyone reading! :)
> 
> Also, get ready for a little bit of angst!

The feeling of inspiration didn’t fade when they got home. Patrick was feeling good and there was nothing else that he wanted to do other than create music. He tried to ignore that nagging feeling that he wanted the music to be for only him and Pete. Maybe he'd be able to sell whatever he wrote to an up-and-coming artist. It wasn't that he didn't like working with the bigger names, but he loved trying to help new artists develop and discover their sound, it was exciting.

 

Pete seemed to be feeling something similar. He joined Patrick in his studio and would offer his comments and suggestions on the music he had written, but was busy himself scribbling down what Patrick assumed were lyrics.

 

It was so much like the old days that Patrick felt an overwhelming surge of nostalgia. It wrapped around his heart and tugged, making him yearn for those days with the band when they were in the zone creating music they loved.

 

But those days had also been filled with tension and fights. They were young, Patrick and Joe only teenagers who had still been in high school when the band was starting out. They didn't have time to mature and had to attempt to grow up on the road. Being signed to a major label so quickly had caused an overwhelming amount of stress to fall on all of them. Patrick had been especially bad at moments with his temper and arguments about how the music should sound. Maybe if he hadn't been so strict with everyone on Folie, the others would have been able to offer bits of input that would have helped ease the musical difference between it and Infinity on High.

 

Right now, however, he felt at peace working with Pete. There wasn't that angst of their younger days that caused drama and screaming matches. Sure, there would always be bickering and debates when writing with someone, but he felt they had matured to a point where they'd be able to do so without hurting the other.

 

"Hey, Trick. Can you take a look at this?" Pete waved his notebook and Patrick noticed how nearly the entire page was filled with his scribbled words.

 

"Yeah. I want to see." He couldn't help but sound excited. It had been so long since he'd got to see the magic that Pete wrote. He pushed himself over and looked down at the notebook, adjusting his glasses that were slipping down his face.

 

At first, it was a little overwhelming, as it always was with how much Pete wrote on a page. But, like riding a bike, the ability to decipher Pete's thoughts came back to Patrick naturally. His eyes scanned over the words, trying to find something that stood out to him, something that would bring life into a song…

 

"Hey...this right here...'I miss missing you now and then'. I like that a lot. I think it could go with...this, right here...'The one you'd take the bullet for is the one behind the trigger'. I’d probably change up the wording of it a bit, but I really like it."

 

"Oh, those!" Pete was actually blushing, that never happened when he shared his lyrics. He was always proud even if Patrick chose not to use them. "I forgot those were on that page. I didn't write that today."

 

"But I like them, why are you embarrassed?"

 

Pete shrugged, reaching for the notebook but Patrick held it close to his chest in an iron grip. "It's nothing. I just wrote it a few months ago."

 

"Tell me why you're embarrassed or I'm not giving it back."

 

"Oh my god, Trick. Fine. They're about you."

 

Patrick blinked. "Me?"

 

"Yeah, you. When I was angry at you for ditching me. But mostly it was just me being sad."

 

Patrick looked back down at the words, and his heart skipped a beat. "I'm the person behind the trigger. I'm the one that hurt you that you'd do anything for." He hung his head in shame. "I'm so sorry, Pete."

 

"No, no. Hey, listen. This is why I didn't want to tell you, because I knew you'd get all bummed out." Pete reached over and lifted Patrick's chin so he was forced to look him in the eye. "It's okay now. I didn't know what you were going through. You weren't trying to hurt me, it's okay. I'll cross those lyrics right out."

 

Patrick shook his head. "Please don't. They're really good. And well, sometimes situations like that make the best inspiration for songs."

 

Pete smiled, although it looked sad. "Yeah, sometimes they do." He rubbed Patrick's shoulders comfortingly. "But take a look at these over here." He pointed to the upper right section of the page.

 

Patrick did as he was told, almost immediately finding something that stuck out to him. He grabbed Pete's pen and circled three sections of lyrics. There was 'Hey youngblood, our time is running out', 'I'll change you like a remix/raise you like a phoenix', and 'that vintage misery, it looked a little better on me'.

 

"This." Patrick poked the page dramatically with a pen. "This right here give me chills. It would make a really awesome chorus to a powerful song."

 

"Why don't you work your magic and kinda put them together then in a way that sounds good?" Pete was grinning and Patrick didn't fail to notice the sparkle in his eye. Pete was in the zone.

 

"Give me 15 minutes." He ripped out a blank piece of paper to write on. "While I'm doing that, write more."

 

They were completely silent for those 15 minutes and when they regrouped, Patrick was thrumming with excitement over what he had.

 

"I know that look Trick, you've got something good, spill!"

 

Patrick slapped the paper down on the table in front of them. After a few scratched out attempts, a clear chorus was written in full:

 

Hey youngblood/doesn't it feel like our time is running out

I'm gonna change you like a remix/then I'll raise you like a phoenix

Wearing our vintage misery/no, I think it looked a little better on me.

I'm gonna change you like a remix/then I'll raise you like a phoenix

 

"Patrick that’s fucking awesome!" Pete leaned over and completely engulfed Patrick in an emotional hug.

 

Patrick laughed, hugging Pete back. "You wrote it. It's your words."

 

"But you put them together in a way that flows and makes it come together into a song, just like you always do. I love it!"

 

Patrick blushed as they pulled out of the hug. "I'm glad you like it. Will you use it with the Black Cards?"

 

"Hell no, this was made by me and you together. That kinda stuff can't be used by any other band. And besides, the Black Cards idea completely fell apart, it’s dead. You know that."

 

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?"

 

"I'm just saying that if it's used, it will be something we use together, something we're both involved in."

 

Patrick let the topic drop, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Pete wanted to get something going with them again. He couldn't help but think of Fall Out Boy.

 

But there was no way the band could ever work, and he hoped Pete would never consider mentioning it to him.

 

“Can you just sing it in the way you’re envisioning it sounding? Plllleeeeasee.” 

 

“Pete, no!”

 

“Patrick, yes! Come on, I miss your voice and I’m so curious to know!” Pete’s tone was gentle, yet pleading.

 

“It won’t have the same effect without any instruments. I’m picturing something really powerful with loud guitars and drums…”

 

Pete walked over to the wall of guitars and thrust an acoustic one in Patrick’s hands. “Play along. Even though it doesn’t have the whole ‘band’ feel that you’re going for, it will help.”

 

“FINE,” Patrick huffed. He angrily strummed for a little bit, trying to imagine what chords he would have decided on for a chorus like that. After a few moments, he figured out a basic version. It wasn’t anything he would have been happy with producing, but it would do.

 

Making sure not to look at Pete, Patrick started singing the song like he envisioned it. “Hey young blood, doesn’t it feel, like our time is running out. I’m gonna change you like a remix, then I’ll raise you like a Phoenix.” He immediately went into the second line, and added more anger, making his voice rougher than normal. He actually really liked it, despite how different the sound was for him.

 

After he finished, he risked a look up at his friend. Pete was grinning like a lunatic. When he caught Patrick staring, he kneeled down to his level and put both hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him.

 

“PATRICK. That was...that was so badass! You sounded amazing! Damn, I missed your voice so much. You sound even better, you know? Your pitch control was spot on. We gotta work more on that song later, I  _ need _ to hear full version.”

 

All of the compliments made Patrick squirm. He handed the guitar back to Pete so he could put it back. He was NOT going to sing any more today. He couldn’t believe Pete even convinced him to sing at all. “Thanks. Maybe we will someday.” He went to play with the rim of his hat, before remembering that he wasn’t wearing it. After the nerves had faded from yesterday, he was comfortable being hat-less around Pete again. He didn't need that security blanket in private now that he knew Pete wasn't judging him based on his disability.

 

But he did need a distraction in order to stop thinking about singing, so he looked back down at the lyrics. "These seem like they could be part of a fun song. 'Let's be alone together/we could be young forever'. It could go with this right here 'I'm at the door, invite me in/so we can go back and play pretend."

 

Pete sat back down and schooched his chair closer. He leaned his head on Patrick's chest while wrapping an arm around his stomach. With anyone else, it would be totally weird and he'd push them away, but with Pete, it was normal and just a part of their friendship, like the cuddling in bed.

 

Pete sighed happily. "I'm really, really happy with doing this again Trick. You really have no idea how happy you make me just by hanging out with me and taking the time to listen to the weird thoughts I have and turn into lyrics."

 

"I think I _ might  _ have an idea,” he teased, guestering to how Pete was squeezing him. “You know I'm feeling the same, right?"

 

"I know, Trick. Those lyrics you just read are about you too, just so you know. But they are ones I wrote today."

 

Oh. Of course they were. It was...it was so them, and a perfect description of what they were doing right now. Reuniting, wanting to be alone together and going back to the old days and pretending they were writing for the band again.

 

If only that vision could become a reality.

 

* * *

  
  
  


That night, when Pete was again snuggled at his side, he didn't get to go to sleep in peace.

 

"So. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours." Pete ruffled his hair, something he seemed to enjoy doing and something Patrick no longer minded now that he had a full head of hair. 

 

"After that blog post you wrote and we started talking again, you kept telling me it was just dramatics and you wrote it in the heat of the moment. I let it go then, but I'm not going to now. I know that's not the truth and I want to know exactly what you were feeling."

 

Of course. Patrick threw an arm over his eyes. "Do we have to do this now?"

 

"Yes, because you'll just keep putting it off otherwise."

 

“I don’t even know where to start.” He sighed deeply.

 

"It's okay. How about you tell me how the accident happened? If you're okay with that."

 

Patrick sighed. "I do want you to know. It's just hard to talk about."

 

"You don't have to..."

 

"No. I should. It's silly to keep putting it off. And you deserve to know."

 

"It might make you feel a little better by telling me too."

 

Patrick couldn't help but smile a little at that. "It probably would." He pushed himself up into a sitting position and leaned back against the headboard. This wasn’t a story he wanted to awkwardly tell laying down.

 

Pete did the same, immediately wrapping an arm around his shoulders and making sure there was no space between them. It was a very comforting feeling and reminded him that Pete was going to be there for him no matter what. It gave him the confidence he needed to finally tell him what happened.

 

“I uhhh...well...you know that I was drinking too much around the time of Folie. Well, I never really got better after that, and it just got worse after Soul Punk failed.”

 

Pete squeezed his shoulder and rested his head against his chest. “I had a feeling you might have been in bad shape after you posted that blog post. That’s why I contacted you. But after we started talking again, you seemed to be doing okay. I mean, when we saw each other those few times, you looked good. I had no idea…”

 

“I mean, I _ was _ doing better after talking to you. I was trying to focus back on my health and start eating normal sized meals again and not drink as much. But...there were still times when I slipped up.” He stopped when he felt Pete go rigid.

 

“Patrick...you didn’t...you wouldn’t drive drunk, did you?”

 

Patrick sighed sadly. “Of course not, Pete. You thought…”

 

He felt Pete instantly relax. “Well, the way you were setting up the story, I thought that was where this was headed. But I know you, you would never do that.”

 

“I didn’t drive drunk. But I was drunk. I decided to go with my dad up to his cabin in Wisconsin. I needed a break from Elisa because it was so hard to try and balance getting better and focusing on a relationship that was about to turn into a marriage. But...the trip didn’t make me feel better, I felt more lonely than ever.” Patrick knew he was rambling, but now that he started talking about it, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I drove into the nearest small town to have some drinks. I know...I know I shouldn’t have. I should have just had a couple beers at most. But I felt so alone...the pain I was feeling was overwhelming…”

 

Pete grabbed his face and turned it toward him. His brown eyes were shimmering with tears. “You know you could have called me Trick. I’d be here for you through anything.”

 

“I...I know that now. But then...we had just started to build back our close friendship and I didn’t want to scare you away. I was so afraid that it would be too much for you. And knowing what you suffered through, I didn’t want my pain to remind you of your own. So I didn’t call, and instead I got pretty damn drunk. I left before I was totally trashed though, and I left my car there. I figured my dad could drive me up the next day to come pick it up. It was about a 40 minute walk back to the cabin, but I didn’t mind. I...I was…”

 

“Patrick...what happened?” Pete’s voice was wavering.

 

“I...was just walking. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was on the grass on the side of the road, I wasn’t even that close to the street. Someone...someone came speeding up behind me. I remember turning around and seeing them swerve all over the place. I never thought...I never thought they’d swerve off the road and hit me.”

 

“Trick...my god Trick.” Pete sat up straighter and the next thing Patrick knew, he was being crushed by his friend’s protective embrace. Pete’s entire body was trembling, and Patrick tried to rub his back in an offer of comfort.

 

“I...I was being responsible. The drunk driver...I don’t even know where he came from. I don’t think that truck was at the bar. He could have been from another bar in town or from a different town all together. I never got to find out because...they just hit me and drove off. They never stopped...and I...I never even passed out. I was just lying there in pain, crying and bleeding and terrified and thinking that I was going to die.”

 

“No. No, no no, not my Trick.” Pete was sobbing now, one hand in Patrick’s hair and his face buried in the crook of his neck. He could feel the sticky wet tears dripping down off his neck and onto his shirt.

 

“I’m okay though, Pete. I made it. I’m right here.” He hugged Pete tighter, but the older man’s tears failed to cease and his entire body kept wracking with tremors.

 

Patrick felt like the biggest asshole on the planet for not letting Pete know what happened for so long. How could he ignore him for so long because of his own stupid fears? If the older man was this distraught learning about what happened, that showed him that all his fears were in his head. Pete would always be there for him even with the disability. He cared about him and loved him despite of everything he’d done. Patrick couldn’t image what Pete had been feeling when his friend vanished from his life one day without a trace.

 

He sat there with Pete in his arms for five minutes, not knowing what to say to make it better, if anything could. He simply held him tight and let Pete sort through all the emotions he must be feeling.

 

“You’re...you’re okay though, right Trick?” Pete finally pulled away and had both hands on either side of Patrick’s face. His voice was hoarse and shaking. “Other than not being able to walk, you don’t have any other injuries right? Nothing internal? No head injury?”

 

“No, I don’t. Somehow, I escaped without anything else serious. The car must have hit me just right to injure my spine and nothing else. I had been bleeding a lot though. If this woman didn’t see me and tell her husband to pull over...I may have bled out or gone into shock or something. She gave me a blanket and they stayed with me until the ambulance came. I...I thought I was going to die right there, but they saved my life.”

 

“You almost bled out? Where?”

 

“My side got gouged pretty bad. I mean, it would have taken time to bleed out but it could have happened if I had laid there long enough. Not sure what caught on me, but it tore the skin pretty deep. It wasn’t deep enough to damage any organs or anything. Just took stitches and left a big scar, but wasn’t serious. Other than that, it was mainly just scrapes and bad bruises. Crazy, right?” Patrick chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.

 

Pete didn’t smile at all, looking just as desvestated. “Can I see it?”

 

“See what?”

 

“The scar.”

 

Patrick’s instinct told him to ask why, but knowing Pete so well, he already knew the answer to that. Pete felt bad that he hadn’t been there after the accident, he felt terrible knowing Patrick had been bleeding out and paralyzed on the side of the road. He wanted to know every detail of what happened or he wouldn’t be able to get over it. He was a very perceptive person and cared so deeply and passionately that he often felt he should mentally put himself in his loved ones shoes and suffer the same pain. He wanted to try and carry some of the burden that Patrick had been dealing with all these months.

 

“Uh, yeah. But ummm…” Patrick ran a hand over his t-shirt to feel where the scar was. He tried to lift just a little section of it so Pete could see.

 

“Patrick, stop this shit. Seriously, just stop.” Pete’s voice was suddenly strong again.

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Don’t play dumb. I know what you’re doing. You don’t want to lift your shirt, and it’s not because of the scar. Please quit it. Your body is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like I’ve never seen you shirtless before.”

 

“But...I have stretch marks.”

 

“Yes, I know that. You’ve had them for years. So? What’s wrong with that?”

 

“I have more now though. After losing the weight and then gaining some back…”

 

“Oh my god, it’s just stretch marks, Patrick! So many people get them! I have them on my inner thighs from when I went through puberty. Stop being ashamed of yourself because you’re not a model.”

 

Patrick looked down at his belly and ran a hand over it. “I just…” he wasn’t sure what to say. Pete had a point. And Patrick wasn’t even that disgusted by how he looked, so why was he so afraid and ashamed for anyone else to see the weight he gained?

 

“You need to stop hating your body. It needs care and love, it houses an amazing soul and is damn resilient. Seriously, do you know how strong your body is? It took all that damage from the car accident and came out on top. It helped you survive, Patrick, it didn’t fail on you and in return, you refused to give up. You need to love your body and the person you are because both are fucking amazing.”

 

Leave it to Pete to make something that should sound extremely cheesy become so poetic. He couldn’t help but hang onto the words his friend was saying. It would take some time to be comfortable with himself and how other people viewed him. But one thing he didn’t have to worry about was how Pete viewed him. He shouldn’t be so insecure around his best friend, he was the only person Patrick had right now that he could trust completely. 

 

“Okay, I’ll show you.” Before he could talk himself out of it, Patrick removed his t-shirt all together and forced himself to look over at Pete. He could feel his arms wanting to try and block the view of his belly, but he kept them firmly at his sides.

 

There was not a hint of disgust or surprise on Pete’s face. In fact, he was giving him ‘That Pete Look’. The one where his eyes were so full of compassion and love that whoever it was directed to couldn’t help but relax and feel wanted. Patrick often wondered if Pete was aware that his expressions rendered him such an open book at times. He was good at hiding his pain, but when he was truly happy, he shined.

 

Patrick looked away and down at himself. He was pale as hell, but he had always been. His chest was a little puffy and his belly was thick and rounded out a bit. He had stretch marks up and down the sides of it, some lighter and more faded than the newer ones. He had small love handles that had a few of their own as well.

 

But all in all, it wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t particularly ugly. The stretch marks weren’t super stark against his skin and only noticeable if you looked close enough. In fact, he probably had a pretty normal body, all things considered. He had been quite a bit bigger than this, and that had been getting into unhealthy territory. But this was okay. His body was naturally accustomed to being heavier, he was content with that.

 

He jumped a bit when he felt Pete’s hands on his skin. The older man’s expression had changed to one of concern...he was running his hands along the long scar on Patrick’s side. The scar ran diagonally from the upper left side of his belly down to nearly the middle of his lower back. It wasn’t a smooth line, as it was slightly jagged most of the way through. The skin was indented slightly and was a dark pink color that was slowly changing to more of a brown as time passed.

 

“It doesn’t bother me.” Patrick shrugged. “I don’t really mind it at all.”

 

“Good. You have no reason to be. This...this is a mark of how much you survived through.” Pete ran his fingers over the scar in a very gentle way, tracing the mark back and forth. It was actually very relaxing, and Patrick felt the tension draining out of his body. He slumped down a bit more, getting comfortable and not caring that the action would cause his belly to round out more.

 

Suddenly, he was being crushed in yet another amazing hug.

 

“I almost lost you Trick. Oh my god, I can’t even imagine losing you and I was that close…to never seeing you again. I’m so glad you’re okay...my god.”

 

“You didn’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“You better not, buddy.”

 

“Disabled or not, I’m here to stay.” Patrick reached over to grab his shirt and put it back on, but before he could do so, he felt both of Pete’s hands on his rounded belly. He squirmed and refused to look down at the area that society told him he should hate.

 

“Look at me.” Pete ordered.

 

“Pete, come on...let go of me.”

 

“I will once you look at me.”

 

Patrick grudgingly complied, looking into his friend’s sincere eyes. “I’m looking.”

 

“Good. Now listen. This is nothing to be ashamed of.” He patted the soft belly, causing it to jiggle a little and Patrick to wince. “Hey, no. Don’t you dare. There’s nothing disgusting about this. This is how your body naturally is, Patrick. It’s adorable and perfect and it’s a part of who you are. Embrace it and love it, please. You look good, I promise you.”

 

“You would tell me if I was ever getting too heavy where it was unhealthy?”

 

“You know I would.”

 

“You didn’t last time.”

 

“I didn’t bring it up when you first started gaining weight because I didn’t really see a reason why. You were fine how you were. I was a little concerned as to the reason why, but I was too afraid to talk about it because I thought you’d think I was making fun of you.” 

 

Pete paused for a moment, clearing his throat and looking away before continuing. “I should have though, because you weren’t in a good place. But when you got really heavy, you know I tried to talk to you. You just kept pushing me away at that point. But I should have tried harder.”

 

“I was a mess by then. I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening to anyone.” Patrick knew he had almost been unapproachable by then, with his self-hatred and anger.

 

“I know. I should have tried talking to you sooner to get to the root of the problem. A good chunk of that weight came on from you not dealing with your problems and being depressed and anxious. You used food to deal with those problems and I see that now. But this...I don’t think the weight you put on has to do with that this time.”

 

“I’m still messed up though,” he admitted sadly.

 

“I know, buddy. But this weight isn’t due to that, is it? You gotta work on yourself mentally but you are taking care of your body physically this time. This is natural weight gain Patrick. You’re healthy, it’s okay. You had already started to put on some weight before the accident, remember?”

 

“Yeah, but it was a good weight. I was just a little soft. Now I have a belly again and my face is all round and…”

 

“Dude, what is it that you’re worried about? This belly isn’t a problem. You’re acting like you’re huge and that’s not the case at all. It’s cute.” Pete started tickling his belly, causing Patrick to shove at his hands. “You’re not even fat, you’re chubby and that’s absolutely okay. Do you really find yourself that hideous? Do you honestly hate the way you look?”

 

“No,” Patrick answered honestly. “I just hate how other people will see me. The comments they made before…”

 

“And why do those people matter? Huh? So, you weighed a little more than average? You were the lead singer of a hugely successful band. Why did you let those words get to you? You were...you  _ are _ amazing. It doesn’t fucking matter what they think of your looks. People will always find something to pick on you for. They loved making fun of how I dressed, wore my hair, my personality...and I just decided not to give a fuck. I know who I am. The true fans can tell what kind of people we are and they don’t give a shit about our appearance.”

 

“If you’re happy with how you are, take that happiness and let it explode into confidence and it’ll create a shield where no one can touch you.”

 

At that, Patrick quirked an eyebrow. “Are those some new song lyrics?”

 

“No, but they can be if you want.”

 

“No way, that was cheesy as all hell.”

 

Pete laughed. “It kind of was. But I’m a cheesy guy.”

 

“You are.” Patrick laughed before getting quiet. “But seriously...thank you.” He reached over and squeezed Pete’s hand, knowing how much the older man craved and loved physical contact.

 

“And thank you for listening Trick, and agreeing to work on this. I’m gonna get you back on your feet if it’s the last thing I do.”

 

Patrick couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing so hard it hurt. “I think that might be impossible.”

 

Pete paused a moment, before finally catching on and breaking into a fit of giggles. “Look at that! I unintentionally broke the somber mood. How about we watch some stupid movie. Or a video game? I see you’ve got a PS3 in here.”

 

“Oh yeah, get ready to get your ass kicked, Wentz.” Patrick grabbed the remote and controllers from his nightstand drawer.

 

“Bring it on, Stump.”

 

It ended up being Patrick who got his ass kicked, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone reading!! I know it's moving slow, but the story kind of has to in the beginning. Things will begin to move along soon!

Having dirty clothes thrown on his face was not what Patrick expected to wake up to.

 

“Wakey, wakey, Trickster. I’ve got a plan for today and you’re going to enjoy it and have fun.”

 

Patrick groaned. “Oh joy. I’m so excited. Can’t wait.”

 

“I’m telling you, we’re going to have fun.”

 

“Does it involve coffee?”

 

“It actually does. That’s our first stop. Now up and at em, little guy.”

 

Patrick dragged himself out of bed, hesitating for a moment as he realized he was shirtless. He had felt so comfortable last night that he forgot to put it back on while they were playing video games. At least that had been in the dark. Now, it was bright and sunny in the room and Pete would be able to see every flaw on his overweight body.

 

Everything in him told him that he needed to cover up, but he looked over at Pete and watched as his friend moved about the room and talked to him without a second glance at his bare chest. Pete didn’t care, he found nothing weird with it. It would probably be more weird if Patrick acted paranoid about being shirtless and made sure to hide.

 

Even though he was still a little anxious, Patrick decided to forgo putting a shirt on altogether since he was going to shower anyway. He pulled himself out of bed and toward his dresser, pausing to rub his eyes tiredly. He had never been a morning person and the rude awakening had him grumpy. Pete, on the other hand, practically skipped over to him with a shirt in hand that he’d grabbed from the closet. It was one of Patrick’s favorites, and one that he knew for a fact was way too small on him now.

 

“You should wear this. I like it a lot, it’s such a Patrick shirt.”

 

Patrick stared up at the button-down short sleeve blue shirt with little white bird silhouettes on it. Pete was right that it was a ‘Patrick shirt’, he loved this one.

 

“I can’t wear that,” he said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

 

“Huh? Why not? You shouldn’t be afraid to wear what you want or feel like you need to dress a certain way.”

 

With a sigh, Patrick shook his head. “It’s not that, Pete. I’m done pretending like I did during Soul Punk or trying to cover up and hide like I did before the band split up. I just want to be myself. But that...it’s my favorite but...it doesn’t fit anymore.” He placed a hand on his belly self-consciously, now regretting that he had decided not to put his t-shirt back on.

 

He watched as his friend looked down at the shirt slowly, and then back at him. “Oh. I wasn’t even thinking...Patrick, it’s okay. I didn’t notice how small this shirt is. There’s a bunch of other shirts that will fit you fine.”

 

Pete went back into his drawers and after about a minute, pulled out a different shirt. This one was mostly blue, with a fourth of the shirt being white, going across the top diagonally. He reached down and shoved Patrick’s hand away from where it was still attempting to cover his naked stomach. “No. Stop that. Don’t you ever feel like you have to hide your body.” He took a step back and held up the shirt. “Wear this, it’s a cool t-shirt.”

 

Patrick was about to complain that it wouldn’t fit either, when Pete tossed the shirt at him. He looked down at it with a frown. He really liked this shirt too, but he hadn’t worn it since before the accident. It had been a little roomy back then though and a t-shirt _would_ have more give than the button down...the only way he’d know if it fit was if he tried it on. He just wasn’t sure if he could handle the disappointment and embarrassment if it didn’t.

 

With a quiet sigh, Patrick lifted the shirt above his head and placed his arms and head through. So far, so good. He began to pull it down and noticed how it was more snug around his shoulders, but not uncomfortably so. When he pulled it all the way down, the fabric was touching him and bunching in places it hadn’t before. He looked in the mirror to see that the tightness accentuated the softness of his chest slightly and also hugged the curves of his belly. It wasn’t hiding anything, but it also didn’t ride up or feel plastered to his skin.

 

“See!” Pete was grinning. “It looks great on you. It will look nice with your leather jacket too.”

 

“It...doesn’t make me look huge...does it?”

 

“It’s not loose, but it’s not painted on you, dude. You look good. I bet the bird shirt had already been kinda tight on you before, huh?”

 

“It was tighter than this used to be.”

 

“You probably had the smallest size you could fit into. If you bought the same size as this shirt, you’d be fine. Now hurry and shower before you stink it up.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, grabbing a dark blue cardigan to wear over his shirt and going into the bathroom while Pete started up the PlayStation again. After he took a shower and changed, he realized that Pete had never mentioned anything about his modified bathroom. It warmed his heart a little bit to know that his friend hadn’t felt intimidated by the the difference and just went with the flow, most people wouldn’t have. There was a shower chair set up for easier bathing, and knowing Pete, he had probably used it himself. Other than the chair, his bathroom was rather normal. There were a few support bars on the walls and the counter was a little lower, but nothing else out of the ordinary. It was a good thing Pete was pretty short, or he’d have a hard time bending over to spit his toothpaste in the sink. The mental image made Patrick giggle.

 

“While I’m glad to hear that laugh again, I’d rather hear it while you’re hanging out with me. Hurry up in there! I’m bored!” Pete bellowed from the bedroom.

 

“You’re playing a game!”

 

“It’s boring playing alone! And I want to go out, come on!”

 

“Okay! Let me just dry my hair!”

 

“You always throw a hat on over it and get hat hair, what’s the point?”

 

“Maybe I just like to make my hair look nice now that I actually have some and not a giant growing bald spot anymore.”

 

It was meant to be a joke, an attempt to poke fun at himself and his flaws that would cause his friend to laugh, but Pete was silent.

 

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” he finally spoke, so quietly that Patrick almost didn’t hear. “You couldn’t control that. It was in your genes.”

 

“I could control it. It just cost thousands of dollars. But I finally did it.”

 

“You didn’t have to do that Trick. You had nothing to be ashamed about.”

 

At this, Patrick opened the door in order to look Pete in the eyes. His friend looked sad, there was some deep aching pain that he could feel reeling from him, and Patrick knew all too well that him and his self-hatred was the source of it. Pete almost seemed to feel Patrick’s own emotions more acutely than he did himself.

 

“That was something I wanted to do for me. I hated it, Pete. It’s not like my weight, or my clothing style that I felt I had to change mostly for the fans and press. This was something that just bothered _me_ so much and I couldn’t accept it. I was a teenager when I started balding and I could never embrace it. Now I can actually go without wearing a hat if I want, or take it off without looking like I’m in my 40s or 50s. I actually look like a young guy now when I’m hatless.”

 

“40s or 50s my ass! You’ve always looked at least 5 years younger than you are.”

 

“I do not!”

 

“Yes you do! You look twenty.”

 

Patrick couldn’t help but blush, he knew Pete had a point. He did always look younger than his age, with or without extra weight. “Well, as soon as I took off my hat, I’d look 10 years older.”

 

“Not with that baby face. But really, I am glad you did it for you and you feel more comfortable. Now, I know I was just giving you shit about hurrying up but...please blow dry your hair, you look like a wet dog.”

 

Patrick laughed and proceeded to do what Pete told him. After he made sure his hair was how he liked, he placed the fedora on top and sat back in his wheelchair to scrutinize his look.

 

“I love the fringe you’ve got going on. You pull it off way better than I ever was able to.” Pete walked over and brushed his fingers over Patrick’s bangs. “Always loved how soft your hair is.”

 

“If you’re going to sweet talk me like this, at least take me out on a coffee date.”

 

The teasing got Patrick the exact reaction that he had been going for. Pete broke out in a huge grin and clapped his hands together happily. “That’s the Trick I know and love! And that’s exactly where I was taking you. Come along!”

 

* * *

 

 

Walking into the coffee shop, Pete was determined to help his friend become comfortable in society again.

 

“Why were you so excited to bring me here?” Patrick asked. He wheeled up to Pete’s side and stopped, looking around the room anxiously.

 

“Because it got the best reviews of independent coffee shops nearby.”

 

“That’s not the reason. Tell me.”

 

“Okay, here’s the deal.” Pete looked down to see Patrick’s nervous face. “The first step in feeling comfortable in going out again and not being nervous is to find a spot that you can find yourself becoming a regular in.”

 

“I’m not following”

 

“I’m saying, that if you find a place you like, you can make a routine. If this place is good, try stopping here every morning. You’ll get to know the workers and meet other regulars. Putting yourself in a place where everyone knows your name and you feel comfortable talking to will help you feel a lot more confident and less anxious about going out. Sorry for the rant, but it’s about the only way I can get through to you.”

 

“What if they know who we are?”

 

“Then they know. And you don’t have to keep coming here if that makes you uncomfortable. But it’s not like we’re the most famous faces around or look like we could be celebrities.”

 

Patrick sighed. “Fine, let’s try this.”

 

Pete put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

 

They approached the counter, the girl behind the register taking a moment to look at his wheelchair before shifting her gaze to Pete. It was normal for people to look away from him after the initial staring at his wheelchair. He was used to it, but he wished that people wouldn’t feel so embarrassed to actually look him in the eyes. He never understood where that reluctance came from. He was still a person, and wanted to be treated like one.

 

Maybe he had to work on making the situation more comfortable. He shouldn’t have to, but coming into situations like this with a bad attitude would only make everything worse. If he remained meek and shy, no one would ever notice him. But If he came across as personable and friendly, it might give the girl a chance to see him as something more than a broken guy.

 

“What can I get for you two?” the girl asked, still looking at Pete.

 

Pete tensed up, and Patrick could tell his friend was a moment away from snapping at the girl for ignoring him. He couldn't let Pete feel guilty about bringing him here, he wasn’t going to let this trip out turn into a failure.

 

Patrick decided to take matters into his own hands. He cleared his throat and pointed at the board that read ‘daily specials’. “What is a...muddy frog latte? That sounds disgusting. I’m picturing water taken straight from a swamp with espresso mixed in.”

 

Pete’s posture instantly relaxed as he burst out laughing. “Of course you’d focus on the name and analyze it like that Trick, that’s so you.”

 

“What? It’s not a very appetizing name if you’re trying to sell a special drink of the day.” Patrick grinned, turning to face the cashier who was...actually looking at him...in the eyes...and smiling.

 

“Oh my god, someone finally said it, thank you!” She giggled. “I’ve been telling my manager that for months and he insists on keeping the name. I think we’ve sold five.”

 

Trying not to freak out over the fact that she was talking to him, Patrick raised his eyebrows. “I can see why. Does it taste as bad as it sounds?”

 

“You want to know what it actually is? It’s a frozen latte with just chocolate, mint and with chocolate chips blended in. That’s it.”

 

“I…” Patrick blinked a few times in confusion. “Why not just call it a chocolately-chip mint mocha or something like that?”

 

The girl threw her hands up in the air. “You’re asking me. He loves his weird names for the special drinks, thinks it will draw more people into trying them out. You think he’d realize his mistake by now.”

 

“Well, just to make your manager feel better, let’s get one for Pete.” Patrick jabbed his friend in the side.

 

“Hey! You can’t order for me!”

 

“I just did.”

 

“ I don’t want any swamp water!”

 

“The drink actually sounds like something you’d like,” Patrick said, thinking of the actual ingredients.

 

At that, Pete shrugged. “Actually, it does.” He squeezed Patrick’s shoulder a little too long, and Patrick caught the message. Pete was happy, he was proud of him. “Since my friend here decided to order for me, I’m gonna order for him.”

 

“Oh, great.”

 

“Get him the birthday cake latte. Hot. Extra whipped cream.”

 

“Got it.” The cashier grinned and when Patrick scanned his credit card, she met his eyes. “So he’s Pete. And you are?”

 

“Patrick,” he blushed, feeling shy again.

 

“Nice to meet you Patrick and Pete. I’m Carly. You guys seem really cool, I hope you’ll come back.”

 

“If this swamp drink doesn’t kill me, we will.”

 

Perhaps sometimes, people weren’t trying to be rude by ignoring him. Maybe they needed to be pushed and brought out of their comfort zone as well. He could tell her initial behavior hadn’t been deliberate and that she seemed to actually be a pretty nice person. Humanity was still mostly good, society had taught them to behave in a certain way toward people that were different. Patrick would have to show them otherwise, and honestly, he was okay with that.

 

They waited at the other side of the counter for their drinks. Patrick laughed at Pete’s expression as his drink took on a dark lime green color.

 

“Don’t laugh at me! That looks like slime.”

 

“You know it’s mint.”

 

“Yes but most mint mochas stay brown, not green. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

 

“I’m telling you, it’s, actually really good.” Carly had now taken on barista duties and blended the chocolate chips in, making the mixture look more like mint chocolate chip ice cream.

 

“I guess that’s looking better.” Pete said cautiously. A few moments later his drink was made, topped with whipped cream and mini chocolate chips.

 

“Give it a go, you baby.” Carly egged Pete on.

 

With a deep sigh, Pete took a hesitant sip, only for his eyes to widen. “Hey, that’s pretty good.”

 

“Told you. Now on to Swampy’s drink.” She winked at Patrick.

 

“Wh...why am I Swampy? I didn’t order the drink.”

 

“Actually you did order it, just for him. And you’re the one that called it out and complained about it, so your name is now Swampy.”

 

Patrick frowned. “Maybe we won’t come back here.”

 

“Oh, no. Now we are definitely coming back!” Pete shoved at his shoulder.

 

“I thought you had more guts than your friend.” Carly directed her comment toward Patrick. “I guess I was wrong, you’re a baby too.”

 

“Oh my god.” Patrick held his head in his hands. “This drink better be worth it.”

 

“We use a syrup that tastes like cake batter, and a special whipped cream that tastes like frosting.”

 

Patrick perked up at that. “Oh, that sounds really good.”

 

“You’ll love it, I promise.” She grinned at him but avoided any further teasing as she finished making his drink and warming up their muffins.

 

Without even needing to discuss it, Pete grabbed their drinks and headed toward a table. That left Patrick to grab their food, which was easy for him to carry on his lap. Everything was so easy with Pete, so natural. The relief that his friend was so understanding and non-judgemental helped fill the ever-present hollow ache in his chest.

 

“What is it?” Pete asked when Patrick got to the table and placed their food on top.

 

“Huh? What is what?” He pulled his wheelchair up, noticing that Pete had even already moved the extra chair so he could sit across from him.

 

“You’re thinking about something. You look kinda emotional. Everything okay?”

 

“Everything’s fine.” He raised an eyebrow, taking off his jacket and tossed it on the chair that Pete had moved.

 

“Then what were you thinking about?”

 

He shrugged. “Just...thank you. For everything. For being so cool about all this and willing to help me out. For not judging me at all.”

 

“Patrick. I told you to shut it. This is what friends do. If I hear that one more time, I’m gonna spill this swamp latte over your head. Got it?”

 

Holding his hands up in the air, Patrick laughed. “Okay, okay. Got it.”

 

Before Patrick knew what was going on, Pete had his phone out and snapped a picture of him at lightning speed.

 

“Hey! What was that for? Delete that!”

 

“No way, it’s adorable.” Pete flipped his phone to show a picture of Patrick with his hands in the air and the sassiest expression on his face. “You even have your cardigan sleeves covering some of your hands...sweater paws. I don’t know how it can get any more adorable than that.”

 

Patrick hid his face behind his...sweater paws. “You’re going to post that, aren’t you?”

 

“Mayyybe…” He sing-songed. “But only if you’re comfortable with it.”

 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I can’t just disappear after suddenly coming back online.”

 

“You can do whatever you want Patrick. Don’t feel pressured to be online again if you don’t want to.”

 

“No, really. It’s fine. It’s actually a pretty funny picture. Post away.”

 

While Pete did that, Patrick opened the top to his latte. He always liked stirring in the whipped cream but groaned at the amount that was on top.

 

“What’s wrong?” Pete asked, finishing what he was doing and putting his phone down.

 

“Did you have to order extra whipped cream?”

 

“But that’s how you like it.”

 

“I know. But I do I really need this? I’m already eating this muffin, the last thing I need is extra calories.”

 

“Trick, don’t.” Pete’s voice was desperate. “I know it’s hard for you to stop this way of thinking,  but please...I...I hate hearing you talk this way about yourself. You’re not gorging on a bunch of food, it’s a muffin and a latte. I’m having the same. You’re perfect Trick, please…”

 

Pete trailed off, staring down at the table and picking at his muffin. It took a moment for Patrick to realize that Pete was actually crying.

 

“Pete...shit, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to think this way. It’s just hard but I’m trying…”

 

“I know.” Pete’s voice was shaky and quiet. “I know and I understand but I also don’t get why you can’t see how awesome you are. I fucking love you, you’re my best friend and I’m terrified I’m going to lose you due to these thoughts.”

 

“Pete, no! Oh my god, I’m depressed but not like that. I didn’t even think you might think I was...I promise you it’s not like that.” Patrick pulled away from the table and went up to Pete’s side, going in for a hug. He wasn’t expecting Pete’s fierce grip when he returned the hug.

 

“Do you promise me?” His friend whispered in his ear.

 

“I’d promise you anything for another shot at life.”

 

Pete pulled away, laughing and wiping the tears from his eyes. “Look who’s being cheesy and using our lyrics in conversation now. But there isn’t a better time to say those words. We’re going to get another shot, Patrick. Me and you, this isn’t where our story ends. The world can’t break us apart again.”

 

“It can’t...it won’t. I won’t let it.”

 

“Me either.” Pete rubbed his shoulders and then left his hands there, seemingly not wanting to let go of Patrick. “Are you going to drink your latte now and not overthink? Will you try and enjoy your food and have a good time without worrying about your weight? Which is just fine, I might add.”

 

“I...I’ll try. I really will.”

 

“Good. Because there’s no use in being miserable and subjecting yourself to a life you don’t want. Would you be happy only drinking black coffee and eating salads and health foods all the time and constantly worrying about if you ate too much?”

 

“No, I’d be really damn miserable. Hell...I was when I tried that.”

 

“And I’d be miserable too if I did the same. Just relax and eat when you’re hungry and eat what you want. Just stop when you’re full. It’s as simple as that. There’s nothing else to worry about.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Alright, then drink your damn coffee before it gets cold.”

 

Patrick laughed, wheeling back over to his side of the table and took a sip, getting a large amount of whipped cream along with the coffee, just the way he liked it. He even tasted some of the sprinkles that had been piled on top. It was delicious, and so was the muffin.

 

The muffin was gone within 5 minutes and he had just less than half of his drink left. He sipped away as Pete told random stories of things that happened over the last five months. Most of them were about Bronx, and Patrick felt himself missing the little boy and feeling guilty for not seeing him enough in the past.

 

“I miss him, I’d really like to see him soon.”

 

Pete’s grin was absolutely blinding. “Yeah? I was hoping you’d say that. He misses you too, he asks about where you are.”

 

“He does? He remembers me?”

 

“I made sure he would.”

 

“I’m sorry...I should have made a better effort with Bronx. I was stupid and pushed everything familiar to me away in order to try and start over. But that...that’s a horrible way to go about it.”

 

“It’s alright Trick. You made a mistake and you learned from it. Just...don’t make it again, okay? I talk you up so much that kid sees you as a superhero.”

 

“He...he does?”

 

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Hey, how about we FaceTime with him right now? He’d be thrilled.”

 

“Ashlee would be okay with that?”

 

“With him talking to you? Of course, why wouldn’t she be? She gets that you’re a huge part of my life, and that means you’d be a huge part of Bronx’s life too.”

 

“I just, hope she’s not upset that you’re here and not back home. I shouldn’t be taking you away from your son.”

 

“Hey. She knows I’m here visiting you, everything’s fine. It’s not my time with him. I get him on the weekends right now. And she told me that if I needed to spend more time with you, that she’d watch him this weekend. We’re not together anymore but we still have a really solid relationship, she understands.”

 

“I just...I feel bad that…”

 

“Shut it right now. You’re my best friend. You’re not in a good place mentally. You just lost your ability to walk. I’m going to be here for you, nothing would keep me away. Of course Bronx is everything to me, but Patrick...damn it you have no idea how important you are too. I need you just as much. My love for you isn’t the same as it is for my son, but it’s just as intense, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Patrick replied meekly.

 

“Now, I want my two most important people in my life to talk to each other right now.”

 

Pete moved his chair over to Patrick’s side and FaceTimed Ashlee. She answered on the second ring.

 

“Hey, everything going okay? How’s Patrick?” Her expression was concerned.

 

“Everything’s good. He’s actually right here.” Pete moved the phone angle so Patrick was on the screen. He waved shly and found himself blushing.

 

“Hey Ashlee, sorry about all this.”

 

She smiled back at him. “Never apologize for needing help, for needing your friend. I’m just glad you’re okay. I know Pete was worried sick.”

 

Patrick couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, he literally dropped everything and ran to get here. It’s my fault for being to afraid to contact him after the accident.”

 

“It took awhile, but you did. Be proud of that. I’m glad you guys have each other again.”

 

Patrick blushed again in response. “Yeah, I’m glad too.”

 

Pete threw an arm around his shoulders and grinned. “Not getting rid of me ever again, Trick. There’s no divorcing like with Ashlee.”

 

Ashlee burst out laughing. “I’m never getting rid of you either, not with our little tike.”

 

“Oh yeah, him. I forgot.”

 

Ashlee shook her head in amusement. Patrick was in awe of their exchange. There was no hatred there at all, and they seemed to still be good friends. It was amazing to watch. “All jokes aside, I take it you called so you could talk to him?”

 

“I did. Patrick also wanted to say hi too.”

 

“Awesome, I’m sure he’ll be excited to see Patrick. I’ll go grab him.” Ashlee put the phone down for a minute before returning, his time with Bronx in her lap.

 

“Daddy!” Bronx squealed, the little blonde curls on his head bouncing as he waved excitedly.

 

“Hey buddy! Are you having fun with Mommy?”

 

“Yeah! We got to see the lions at the zoo! But the hippos was sleeping. Can you take me to see the hippos, Daddy?”

 

“Of course. I’ll take you when I get back.”

 

“Did you go to work?” Bronx asked, referring to Pete’s time away in the studio with the Black Cards. Bronx was too young to catch onto the fact that Pete hadn’t mentioned needing to ‘go to work’ in months.

 

“No kiddo, I don’t do that job anymore. I went on an airplane to see someone, I went to visit your Uncle Trick.”

 

“Unca Trick!!” Bronx started bouncing excitedly on Ashelee’s lap,causing her to have to hold him to keep him from falling off. “Is he with you, Daddy?”

 

“Yep, you want to talk to him?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

Pete moved the phone so Patrick was visible.

 

“Hey little bud, it’s Uncle Trick. I’ve missed you.” He waved into the camera.

 

Instead of smiling back, Bronx started blankly. Patrick felt his heart drop. Bronx didn’t remember him and it was all his fault.

 

“You not Unca Trick!” he yelled and then looked up to Ashlee in confusion.

 

“That _is_ Uncle Trick, Bronx.” Ashlee coaxed him. She shared a confused look with the guys.

 

“No! Not Unca Trick. That man don’t look like him!”

 

Patrick sat there for a moment with his mouth open slack, letting the comment sink in. Bronx was basically telling him he’d gotten so big that he was unrecognizable. He hadn’t thought it was that bad…

 

“Buddy, this is your Uncle Trick,” Pete said, reaching over to rub Patrick’s shoulders comfortingly. He attempted to lock eyes with the younger man, but Patrick refused to see the pity that was sure to be there. “Why don’t you think it looks like him?”

 

Oh god. Pete wasn’t pitying him. He was honestly that clueless that he didn’t realize what Bronx was saying. Now Patrick was going to hear Bronx say to his face that ‘this man is too fat to be him’. He wasn't sure he could handle that without breaking down.

 

“Unca Trick has yellow hair! He don’t have glasses!”

 

Patrick let out a shaky breath, suddenly realizing how light headed he had felt. It was his style change that got the young boy confused all along. He hadn’t even been wearing hats when he had been seeing Bronx. The little boy was confused by these changes.Of course, that made sense.

 

“He changed his hair color kiddo. People can do that. This is actually your Uncle Trick’s real hair color.” Pete reached over and removed the fedora from patrick’s head. “Now just pretend his hair is yellow, doesn’t that look like your Uncle trick?”

 

“His hair was fluffy!”

 

“Yeah it was, but he changed it up, just like I change how my hair looks.” Pete ruffled Patrick’s hair the best he could to mimic his Soul Punk style. “Your uncle used to wear glasses all the time and now he is again.” He took off the glasses next, and Patrick stared at a blurry Bronx on the phone screen.

 

Bronx’s confusion immediately changed to excitement once the glasses were removed. “Unca Trick!! It's You! You got different hairs!”

 

Patrick giggled, placing his glasses and fedora back on. “Yeah, I do buddy. Like your dad said, this is my real hair color.”

 

“I don’t like it. I like your yellow hair better cause it’s like mine!” Bronx grabbed his blonde curls, bouncing in his mom’s lap.

 

“Sorry kiddo, I don’t think I’m ever going to have it that color again. Yellow hair looks much better on you than me.”

 

“But I like your hat an’ glasses Unca Trick! You look cool.”

 

Patrick almost choked. Him? Looking cool? Yeah, right. Only an almost-four year old would think that. “Thanks, Bronx. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you or got to hang out with you in a long time. I was...hurt and needed to rest.”

 

“Hurt? Did you break your arm like Billy?”

 

Patrick had no idea who Billy was, but it didn’t matter. “No, I got hurt worse than that. I hurt my back really bad and now I can’t move my legs anymore. I can’t walk so I’m in a wheelchair. Do you know what those are?”

 

Bronx seemed confused, but Ashlee whispered to him what was probably a description of a wheelchair. After thinking for a few moments before he nodded. “Yeah but those are for old people!”

 

Patrick couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, you’re right that some old people need them to help them get around. But younger people need them too if they get hurt or sick. Even kids need them if they get hurt like I did and can’t walk anymore.”

 

“Oh okay.” Bronx paused for a few moments, looking a little sad. “Are you gonna be okay Unca Trick?”

 

“Yeah, I’m okay buddy. I just can’t walk anymore, but I’m not hurt anywhere else.”

 

“Can you still play with me?”

 

“Of course I can!”

 

“Are you gonna come for my birt-day party?”

 

Laughing at the pronunciation, Patrick grinned. “You bet I will. I think I’ll even see you before then too.”

 

“Really?!” Bronx screeched, causing Ashlee to flinch.

 

“Really really. I’ll come visit as soon as I can.”

 

“Yay! You won’t go away again?”

 

“I promise you that I’ll never go away ever ever again.”

 

Bronx squealed some more, causing Pete to laugh.

 

“Alright buddy, me and Uncle Trick are going to finish eating and go hang out. You have fun with Mommy, okay?”

 

“Okay Daddy! I love you!”

 

“Love you too.”

 

“Love you Unca Trick!”

 

Patrick’s eyes started to water immediately, a lump forming in his throat. He had to clear it a few times before attempting to speak. “I love you too Bronx. Thank you for talking to me.”

 

Bronx waved back excitedly. Pete and Ashlee exchanged some words, but Patrick wasn’t listening. His mind was foggy with the realisation that Bronx not only remembered him, but loved him, even though he had vanished for so long.

 

“You good, Trick?” Pete was off the phone now, the hand that was still on his shoulder squeezed him.

 

Patrick took a few sips of his latte to try and clear the lump in his throat. “I’m good. It was...I’ just kinda emotional after seeing and talking to him again.”

 

“I’m so glad you guys got to talk. He was thrilled! Did you see his face when you mentioned going to see him?” Pete sighed happily, finally pulling away from Patrick and finishing his drink.

 

Patrick did the same, lost in his thoughts until Pete spoke.

 

“Okay, let’s get on with our day. I’ve got big plans for you, my friend. We’re going to go explore Chicago. Let’s get out of these suburbs and get out and have some fun!”

 

Hearing that Pete’s idea for a good day was to go wandering around Chicago where there would be TONS of people milling about had Patrick on edge. It sounded fun, sure....when he had legs that would actually move so he could walk.

 

Now, he’d just be getting in everyone’s way with his chair, and probably accidentally bumped into people and objects on the narrow Chicago sidewalks.

 

But when he looked at Pete’s blinding grin and hopeful eyes, he knew he couldn’t let his friend down. Pete had done so much for him and was trying so hard to help him get better.

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

What the hell was he getting himself into?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, sorry this took so long! I've been extremely busy IRL and was also trying to think of exactly how this chapter should go and the places that Pete and Patrick should visit in Chicago. I went back and forth on the timing of important events that are going to take place but I have the plot all sorted out now! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that is reading and those who commented! I hope you enjoy :)

The best way to get into Chicago from the suburbs was to take the Metra Rail. Patrick was terrified to ride public transportation for the first time since his disability. It wasn’t that he thought he would have any difficulty riding it...most transportation systems and places were handicap accessible nowadays...but that he was afraid he would get in everyone’s way. He always hated being the center of attention on stage and got very bashful when all eyes were on him. At least in public, he used to be able to easily blend in with the crowd since he was a normal looking guy and not a household name.

 

Now, people always looked at him because of the wheelchair. And that was okay...it was. They usually quickly looked away in embarrassment or forgot about him after a few minutes when their curiosity faded. It was when he was in busy, crowded places and felt like his wheelchair would get in the way and that people would get frustrated or irritated with having to move around him. He hated making anyone feel upset, even if it was something that he had no control over.

 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Pete squeezed his shoulder as they waited for the train to arrive.

 

Patrick looked up at him, furrowing his brow. “How did you know I’m worried?”

 

“I know you, dude. You keep fidgeting and doing that rapid-blink thing you do when you get anxious. This is supposed to be fun, just relax a little, you’ll see.”

 

“I’ll have fun, I promise.” Patrick looked around him, there was a good amount of people waiting. Hopefully he could get on first in order to avoid any awkwardness.

 

When the train arrived, a woman stepped out to check their tickets. She noticed Patrick, and waved him over first. Patrick did as he was told, Pete following.

 

“Have you ridden with us before?” she asked, looking at Patrick.

 

“Yeah, but first time since I’ve been in this.” He motioned to the wheelchair, knowing that she had asked so she could direct him toward the handicap seating.

 

The woman’s business-like demeanor broke as her non-expressive eyes suddenly went sad. She probably didn’t even mean it, but Patrick hated when that happened. It was the the “oh poor young guy, he wasn’t always like this, his life is ruined now” realization.

 

He didn’t want pity. He didn’t see the point of it. He was going to be like this for the rest of his life, so why couldn’t he continue to go about living it like everyone else without feeling like he was less of a person? Why did people need to feel sorry for him when there were worse things that other people were dealing with, people that were actually suffering.

 

The woman must have noticed both Patrick’s and Pete’s annoyed expressions, because she corrected her mistake and went back into work mode. “You can sit in your wheelchair in the open spaces just to the right and left of the middle of the train. You're also fine to transfer into any other seat.”

 

Patrick simply nodded, not feeling the need to stay irritated. The whole encounter could have been much worse.

 

“I’ll just sit here in my chair.” Patrick pointed to a spot to their right, which had an empty seat next to it where Pete could sit next to him. “It’s easier and quicker than dealing with transferring.”

 

There were several people already on the train from previous stops. They glanced over at Patrick, but also at the other people boarding. No one seemed very interested in him other than a few kids that stared curiously at his chair. He smiled at the kids and they smiled back, waving.

 

Maybe he should just treat other people like he did the kids. While the children’s curiosity was more innocent than that of an adult, a smile went a long way. He thought back to Carly at the coffee shop and how his warm smile and personality warmed her right up to him and broke down the initial awkward barrier.

 

He looked over at Pete next to him. Pete, who was energetic and could work a room but also awkward and equally as dorky as Patrick himself. Pete’s presence and personality greatly helped Patrick to relax and think more calmly and rational in these situations which made him prone to panic. He was the best damn friend that Patrick could ever ask for.

 

As long as Pete was there, Patrick thought he could get through being in public and any social situations that might arise just fine.

 

He put his guard down for the first time around other people and allowed himself to relax. His posture loosened considerably as he rested an arm on Pete’s seat next to him.

 

His friend turned to him, smiling. “What do you want to do first?”

 

Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you had this all planned out!”

 

“I have ideas of what we can do, yeah. But I want to know if you have anything specific in mind first.”

 

“You know me, I don’t care. I’m a homebody and will just go along with whatever if someone asks me to go out as long as it’s not something crazy.”

 

“Yeah, no clubs for you. And no more strippers for your birthday,” Pete said quietly enough so no one would hear. “I’m still sorry about that, you know.”

 

Patrick remembered how uncomfortable the situation had made him. “It’s okay. I know you only meant well and wanted me to have a good time. But yeah, never again.”

 

“Cross my heart.” Pete dramatically put a hand over his heart, causing Patrick to giggle. “But come on, there’s gotta be one place you wanna go to.”

 

He sighed in response, before suddenly getting an idea. “Wait, remember that old record store we would go to? That’s still around, right? Can we go there?”

 

“Music, of course.” Pete was grinning. “You’ll be in heaven looking through everything. I could probably leave for 5 hours and you’d still be browsing, never noticing I’d left.”

 

Patrick smiled nervously. “You won’t leave though, right?” He couldn’t help but panic at the thought of being somewhere alone. Before, he wouldn't care if Pete had left to go browse another store. But now...he’d rather not be by himself anywhere just yet.

 

“I’m teasing! Of course not!”

 

Patrick blushed, embarrassed for his reaction and seeming needy. He knew Pete didn’t care though. “Maybe we can go to that sandwich shop across the street for lunch after?”

 

“There you go Trickster! Taking charge, I love it!”

 

As the train made a few more stops, it began to get more crowded. Patrick started to become a little anxious with how many people were now standing around him due to the seats being full. How was he going to get out around all these people?

 

Pete, as usual, knew exactly what had him worried. “Stop freaking out. We’ll say ‘excuse me’ and they’ll step out of our way, just like they would for anyone else.” He pulled out his phone and threw an arm around Patrick’s shoulders. “Check this out.”

 

Pete was showing him comments on his Twitter from the picture he had posted of Patrick at the coffee shop. The fans were going nuts.

 

_Patrick is ADORABLE_

 

_Sasstrick returns!_

 

_I hope we keep getting new Patrick content we’ve been deprived for too long_

 

_I love Patrick so much, he’s so cute. My heart is BURSTING_

 

_I’m so happy he’s okay, i really hope he feels better soon. I’ve missed him so much :’(_

 

“Oh my gosh.” Patrick hid his face behind his hands.

 

“Why are you so embarrassed? Everyone is so happy you’re okay! They love you, Patrick. I don’t think you realize how much the fans love you. You’re an awesome guy and they know it.”

 

“You’re more awesome.”

 

Pete frowned. “Hey, I know I tended to be the center of attention and the girls would fawn over me too much but you…”

 

“No! That’s not what I mean at all. I never cared about any of that, you know it never bothered me. I’m saying you’re more awesome because...well, look at everything you’re doing for me. Look at what a good friend you are compared to what a sucky friend I am.”

 

“You’re not sucky, Trick. Don’t say that, please. You sucked for a little bit, but you were in a bad place. I don’t hold any of that against you, okay? All that is in the past and forgotten.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me. I’m just happy we’re together again and we’re hanging out and that I’m never going to lose you again.” He shook Patrick’s shoulder playfully when the train driver announced their stop. “Alright, this is us. I’ll go ahead of you and you just stay right behind me and follow the path I cleared.”

 

When the bus stopped, Patrick tried to do just that. He quickly realized he had been overreacting earlier. Pete politely made his way through telling people ‘excuse us’ and they began to move to allow them to get through to the door. Everything was fine until a middle-aged man came from the other side, looking down at his phone and bumping into Patrick as they both went to exit the train at the same time.

 

The man tripped a bit, stumbling his way down the ramp first. Patrick’s fedora got knocked off his head, but luckily fell into his lap. As that happened, he felt someone grab the back of his chair and he turned to see a woman around the same age as the man looking down at him.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

 

“I’m uh...yeah I’m fine.” Patrick went to push himself down the ramp so he wasn’t in anyone else’s way, and that was when the woman realized she was still holding onto his chair.

 

“I’m so sorry!” She let go and followed him down the ramp and onto the platform. “I just panicked and went to steady you. My husband is a clumsy ox that’s glued to his stupid phone.”

 

Patrick couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay, really. People bump into each other all the time because they can’t put their phones away. Ask my friend.” He looked around and saw both the husband and Pete, who were coming toward him from different directions.

 

Pete reached him first, looking a little frazzled. “Trick, there you are. Everything okay?”

 

“I’m so sorry for the hassle,” the woman apologized to Pete. “My husband basically fell over your friend because he couldn’t look away from his damn phone.”

 

“I told her it sounds like you.” Patrick grinned, grabbing his fedora from his lap and repositioning it on top of his head.

 

“Hey, I’m a willing victim to the technology surge but I’m excellent at multitasking.”

 

At that moment, the husband walked up, his face bright red. “I am so sorry, kid,” he said to Patrick. “That was one of my most embarrassing moments. I promise you I’m not an inconsiderate jerk.”

 

“I’d beg to differ, Peter.” The wife shot back, angrily. “Put away that stupid thing for once and pay attention to what’s going on around you.”

 

Patrick punched Pete’s arm as the couple argued. “Hey, look, his name is Peter too. Something else you two have in common.”

 

“Oh my god, they sound just like us bickering too. It’s like looking in a mirror...15 years from now.” Pete laughed. “Let’s escape, because we both know their arguing isn’t going to end anytime soon.”

 

They made their way to the record store, which was six blocks away. Patrick made sure that he kept close Pete’s side, not because he was afraid, but rather to take up as little of the sidewalk as possible. He wanted to make sure the people walking in the other direction had enough room.

 

“Okay, dude. Geeze, slow down.” Pete laughed. “Can I just say that I’m surprised how fast you move? It’s not a race. I don’t want to jog down the sidewalks.”

 

Patrick slowed down and looked up at Pete with a crooked smile. “My physical therapist called me ‘speed racer’. Not just with how fast I moved, but how quickly I learned to get around smoothly.”

 

“Well, I’ve always said that you’re like a sponge. You learn so quickly and become an expert at everything you try. You’re the most talented person I know.”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to add ‘wheelchair maneuvering’ to my list of talents.”

 

“Oh yeah, for sure. Can’t leave that one out.” Pete chuckled. “But seriously, this isn’t so bad, right? Sure, it’s a little crowded, but nothing too crazy. The train ride was fine other than almost having a dude land in your lap. Are you feeling any better about going out?”

 

Patrick paused, but only for a moment. “Well, I have to admit, so far, so good.”

 

“Good. I like seeing you happy.”

 

* * *

  
  


After a few more minutes, they made it to the record store. Pete watched as the remaining tension in Patrick’s posture lifted as soon as they entered. He immediately wheeled over to a section, searching through one of the boxes.

 

“Alright then, looks like you’re right at home.” Pete chuckled.

 

“This might take a while. We might be in here for hours,” Patrick mumbled, turning an album around and squinting at the track listing on the back. “I haven’t been to a record store since before the accident.”

 

“No rush, spend as much time as you want here. We have nowhere to be.”

 

“Okay...uh, I might need help with some of the records in the back of the shelves. I can’t reach back there. I might want to look at some of them…”

 

“Dude, no problem. Just call me over as many times as you need and I’ll grab what you want.”

 

Patrick finally looked up, his eyes were shining. Pete hadn’t seen this much innocent happiness from Patrick in...years. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me for being a decent human being. Go have fun and browse until your heart’s content.”

 

Patrick didn’t need to be told twice, as he dove right back in to looking at records.

 

Pete enjoyed looking for music to collect as well, but not nearly as much as his friend did. He was more about discovering new talent and trying to help them find their way. That was why he started his record label, after all. His only problem was that some of the artists he signed needed some help when working on their first big album. A lot of them overthought the process because of nerves and the quality of the songs suffered because of it. Most would find a groove, but not to the full potential that Pete knew they had.

 

He wished he could help them more, but his forte wasn’t writing music. He could write lyrics, sure. But the only person that seemed to be able to use them in a way that worked was Patrick.

 

 _Patrick._ Patrick could write music like nobody’s business. He had told Pete he currently had some deals to write some songs for artists. If he could get Patrick to help some of the DCD2 bands that couldn’t seem to find their sound…

 

Patrick had already done it with both The Cab and The Hush Sound, basically composing the music for their entire albums. He had made those band a success, and while The Cab had broken up and The Hush Sound’s status seemed to be up in the air, the music Patrick wrote for them had struck a chord with fans.

 

Pete knew that Patrick had stopped writing for the label for a number of reasons, the growing tensions between their own band mates, his depression and trying to make a solo album while rediscovering himself. But he wondered if Patrick would like to come back and take on a bigger role with his label and be more active in composing music. He would be the perfect mentor for up and coming bands. Patrick helped fund the label, he’d always be part owner, but maybe becoming more active in it would be a huge boost to his confidence.

 

If he got more involved in the label, Patrick would possibly become more comfortable in making music for himself. Whether that would mean solo stuff, or Fall Out Boy getting back together, Pete didn’t care. While he desperately wanted the band back, he would do anything to hear Patrick’s singing songs he was passionate about. It wasn’t right that Patrick’s voice had been silenced by the haters and his self-loathing.

 

Plus, Pete really really wanted to work with his best friend again, on any level. The more time spent with Patrick, the happier he was.

 

Deciding to let Patrick nerd out for a while, Pete made a mental note to bring up the idea tomorrow. Maybe Patrick would surprise him and agree. In the meantime, he walked over to the section of the store that sold instruments. He always liked looking at them even if he didn’t know how to play the majority of them.

 

“You looking for something in particular?” A worker approached him, a man who looked to be in his early-to-mid twenties.

 

“Nah, just browsing while my friend nerds out over your collection.” Pete pointed his thumb back toward where Patrick was. “I’m pretty much stuck for at least two hours until he decides he got a thorough enough look at everything.”

 

“You’re not a big music person?” the guy asked.

 

That got Pete to laugh. “No I am. You have no idea how much I’m into music. It’s just that Patrick lives and breathes everything that has to do with it, and I’m more about playing and discovering new talent.”

 

“Patrick? Wait a minute.” The guy squinted his eyes at where Patrick was, as if studying him. He rapidly spun around and grabbed a guitar from the wall, holding it out to show Pete.

 

Holy shit, it was a Stumpomatic. It made sense that they’d sell them in Chicago, but still, it was crazy to see Patrick’s signature guitar for sale to the public.

 

“I knew he looked familiar when you first pointed him out!” The employee jabbed his finger at the picture of Patrick holding the guitar that was used as part of the instrument’s packaging. “Patrick Stump! Holy shit, I had the biggest crush on him in high school. Wait, and you must be Pete, right?”

 

“Yep, I look a little different without the whole eyeliner thing, huh?” Pete was grinning at the guy’s reaction to noticing Patrick.

 

“Yeah, didn’t even recognize you. But Patrick looks the same...except for missing those sideburns, but he looks even cuter without them.” He blushed. “Can I...would he mind if I said hi?”

 

Pete laughed. “He definitely wouldn’t at all.”

 

“Okay, I’m gonna do it. But uh...what’s with the wheelchair? Is he okay? Did he break a leg or something?”

 

“You didn’t hear the news online?”

 

“Nah, I stay away from the news whenever I can. Wait, shit. If it made the news...it’s something serious. He isn’t sick, is he?” The guy’s face paled.

 

“No, no! He’s perfectly healthy. But it is serious. He damaged his spine when he was hit by a drunk driver walking along the side of the road. He can’t walk anymore.”

 

“Oh shit! When did that happen...the poor guy…”

 

Pete frowned, remembering how the employee at the train station had looked at Patrick with pity. “Hey, just to let you know before you go say hi to him, don’t think of him as a ‘poor guy’, please. He feels awkward and anxious enough and doesn’t need pity. I said he’s healthy and he is physically, but he’s not doing so good mentally, so just...don’t pity him okay? Because he’ll notice that right away and it will make him even more nervous to go out.”

 

The guy seemed to understand. “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t...it’s the first thought that comes to mind. But you’re right. I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be, it’s okay. I get it’s the natural reaction to feel bad for him. But he’s still Patrick. He just wants to be treated the same as he would have been before.” He sighed, feeling a bit guilty. “I'm sorry if what I said before came out harsh, I’m…”

 

“You’re protective of him. I always got that vibe from you. That’s good. If he’s not doing well mentally, he needs someone like you there for him. But he’s not like...suicidal or anything right? Please tell me he’s not.”

 

“No.” Pete answered that with complete honesty. It’s what Patrick had told him, and he was going to believe his friend. And after hanging out with him, Pete could tell that Patrick was clearly suffering from depression, but it hadn’t been at that level. He just hoped it would never get that bad. “I won’t get into any more because that’s his business and it’s up to him to talk about that. But I know he’d absolutely love to say hi to fans. He might talk your ear off about the music in here, though.” he laughed.

 

“I live and breathe music, I could talk to him all day.” The guy smiled, he looked like he was on cloud nine. “Oh man, I can’t believe this is happening.” With that, he nervously began walking toward Patrick.

 

Pete couldn’t help but watch the initial encounter. He was instantly relieved when Patrick offered the guy a huge smile upon meeting him and shook his hand. The employee then started talking, and Patrick laughed through the entire conversation. It was when Patrick picked up an album and started waving his other hand excitedly that Pete knew his friend felt comfortable.

 

Pete wandered around the store for another half hour before the employee came up to him again.

 

“Oh man, that was awesome! He’s such a nice guy, oh my god. And he’s a musical genius! He signed a copy of Take This to Your Grave for me.” He waved the vinyl in the air, the price tag was still on it and Pete couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that he’d just grabbed it from the store. “Will you sign it too please? And can I get a picture? I already did with Patrick but can I get one with the both of you too?”

 

Finding the young man's excitement endearing, Pete had no problem agreeing. Patrick was all smiles when they came over to take another picture.

 

They were starting to attract a little bit of attention from curious customers, so they both agreed to leave. Patrick bought the vinyls he had found and even gave a donation to the store.

 

“Gotta support local record stores,” Patrick had said. He had a heart the size of the sun and Pete didn’t understand how Patrick could think so lowly of himself.

 

* * *

  
  


Patrick was relieved when they ate lunch without any other fans noticing them and agreed with his friend that the sandwich place was as good as they remembered. Pete got some massive monstrosity of special BLT that he couldn’t even finish but apparently was ‘so delicious’ that he couldn’t let it go to waste and offered the rest to Patrick.

 

He was hesitant to eat it after he already had his own relatively healthy sub and two cookies, but one bite in and he understood Pete’s dilemma. Something that good could _not_ get thrown away. It wasn’t until after he was done that Patrick put a hand on his full belly and took a deep breath. He tried not to feel guilty...he was a bigger guy, it took more to fill him...and it wasn’t like he ate some obscene amount.

 

“While we’re here, uhh can I stop at some stores to get new clothes? I need more stuff that fits comfortably.”

 

“Yeah, of course man.” Pete frowned. “You don’t have to be ashamed of that.”

 

“I’m...I’m not. Not really. I’m just accepting that this is how I’m gonna eat. I’m not going to diet. I don’t want to. I’m not eating really unhealthy or binging. Most people wouldn’t gain a lot of weight eating like I do, they’d be fine. But for me...not dieting and eating what I want leads to me being 40-something pounds overweight. And I’m...I’m okay with that. This is how I’m going to be. I am fine being this weight. But I want to be comfortable. And most of my clothes are either too tight or if they fit, it isn’t the style I like.”

 

"I'm glad you're trying to accept how you are. Dieting doesn't make you happy, there's no reason to continue it."

 

"It's weird though, most of the shirts I had during Soul Punk were smalls. I think I’d rip those if I tried them on. So I was wearing my old shirts that I had left from the Fall Out Boy days, and most of them fit but some of those are a little too big. The ones that are a large fit well, so we should probably look for that size. And I don't even know what to look for in jeans, since I've been mostly wearing old sweatpants..." Patrick stopped, realizing he had gone off on another rambling tangent.

 

Luckily for him, Pete was awesome and didn't comment on it. He even seemed to be endeared by his rambling. “Of course we can go shopping. It’ll be fun to look for Patrick shirts.”

 

* * *

  
  


Pete stood by what he said at the restaurant; it  _was_ fun to look for Patrick shirts. He was having a blast and they were only in their second store.

 

“This is totally you.” Pete turned to where Patrick was, looking through some shelves of jeans. He held the shirt in excitement. It was a short-sleeve button up with a speckled pattern on it.

 

Patrick turned around, eyeing the shirt for a moment and then threw his hands up in the air. “How do you always know exactly what I’d like?”

 

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Pete laughed.

 

“I’m not! It’s just crazy. I could never in a million years guess what you’d like.”

 

“That’s because I have a really broad, weird and mostly ugly fashion sense. You’re much more specific.”

 

“That’s true about you. But at least you own it.” Patrick reached out for the shirt, and Pete handed it to him. He placed it on his lap with the other clothes he’d picked out. “Can we find more solid color t-shirts and button ups? Maybe a few polos. Oh and jackets that will actually zip up around my stomach.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s look over here.” There was a section with various colored comfy looking t-shirts. Pete headed over, but turned around when he heard Patrick cursing.

 

“These damn aisles are too small!” Patrick’s face was flush with embarrassment, his wheelchair had caught on the edge of a table display. He tried to back up, but only ran into another. “Damnit!” he whispered.

 

When Patrick started cursing more than once, Pete knew it was serious. “Hey, relax.” He put a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from moving anymore. Patrick was getting frustrated and had jerked around so much that he wedged one of his wheels is a narrow gap between two tables. “I’ll get you out. It’ll be real quick and won’t cause a scene.”

 

Pete walked behind him and pushed one of the tables away from them before quickly adjusting Patrick’s chair. “There, no big deal,” he said, coming back around to face his friend.

 

“Like hell it isn’t!” Patrick hissed quietly. “I can’t even get around in here because of how narrow the aisles are!”

 

“I didn’t mean it that way. Come on Patrick, you know I didn’t. It isn’t right for them to squeeze everything in here without keeping everyone in mind. I just meant that it’s not a big deal for me to help you. Let’s go slow and if you need anything moved out of the way, let me know.”

 

Patrick sighed, the fight draining out of his body. “I know. I know. It’s embarrassing though. It makes it seem like I don’t know how to use my chair or that I can’t get around without help. I don’t want to come across as more disabled than I already am.”

 

“Aww, Trick...come on.” Pete had to clear his throat, as he felt himself choking up. He hated seeing Patrick like this, with his head down and eyes on his lap, fingers fiddling together with anxiety. He wanted Patrick to be able to go out with confidence and not have to worry about the way he was being perceived. It couldn’t be easy and Pete just wished he knew how to fix the way he was feeling.

 

“I’m sorry,” Patrick mumbled quietly when Pete didn’t say anything else.

 

“No. Shut up. Don’t apologize. Just...don’t feel bad for things you can’t control. There’s no need to be embarrassed. No one is gonna look at you and think you don’t know how to use your chair because this store’s layout sucks. And if they do, then fuck them. You hold your chin up high and know there’s nothing that you have to be ashamed of.”

 

Patrick lifted his head and took a deep breath. His eyes wandered for a while nervously before settling on meeting Pete’s gaze. At least he was trying.

 

“Okay good.” Pete squeezed his shoulder. “Let me guess...you want blues, reds and black?” He gestured toward the t-shirts.  


“Uh...yeah.” Patrick cleared his throat. “I like the ones with the pocket in front. But I can grab a few without it too.”

 

They grabbed several t-shirts and button-down shirts. After, Patrick went to look at the jeans again while Pete grabbed several cardigans that he knew Patrick couldn’t get enough of. They met back up a few minutes later and headed toward the dressing rooms. An employee unlocked a bigger, handicap room, barely sparing them any attention as she ran back into the main area.

 

“I love how she’s acting like she has so much work to do when I’ve been watching her sit on her phone the whole time we’ve been here,” Pete pointed out.

 

“I noticed that too. She didn’t even ask us if we needed help. I thought it was because she was afraid to talk to me, but then noticed she was ignoring everyone.”

 

“Still want to give this place your business?”

 

“Yeah, I like the clothes. And they actually have a handicap fitting room so it kind of makes up for the small asiles.”

 

Pete placed the clothes he had been carrying onto the pile in Patrick’s lap. He went to sit down and wait for him to be done, but noticed that Patrick wasn’t going over to shut the door and instead staring at him nervously.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Umm...I usually lay on my bed to get my pants on. I can adjust the way I do it and get them on while sitting on this bench...I can. But it would take a long time because I have so many pairs to try on and…”

 

“Of course I’ll help you. Dude, all you have to do is ask. You don’t need to explain anything to me, I get it.” Pete went into the room and grabbed the clothes from Patrick, handing him a pair of jeans. “Try this pair with that speckled shirt I got for you when we first came in. You just have to tell me what I should be doing in order to help you put them on.”

 

“I can get out of the pants fine, but you can help pull them off over my feet if you want. For putting them on, Just kinda...get them on my legs up to my knees. Then maybe lift me up a bit and I’ll pull them the rest of the way up? I think that would help make it really quick.” Patrick transferred over onto the bench.

 

“Alright. That sounds good to me.” Pete squeezed his shoulder in reassurance.

 

“I...I am a little nervous though.”

 

“About what? Trick, we’ve always changed in front of each other, the whole band did. You were just fine being shirtless in front of me. Why…”

 

“I know. I know. I don’t care about taking off my shirt. But...you haven’t seen my bare legs yet. They...don’t look normal. I mean, they’re skinny because of the muscle atrophy.”

 

Pete hadn’t known much about spinal injuries, he still didn’t know a lot even though he was trying to research Patrick’s condition as much as he could in order to understand everything. But it was common sense to him that since Patrick couldn’t move his legs, the muscles weren’t getting exercise and his legs would lose a lot of muscle mass. His heart fell upon knowing Patrick was so self-conscious about something that was normal for a person in his condition and completely out of his control.

 

“I know, buddy. I figured,” he said softly. “It’s okay, do you think I’m gonna be grossed out or something? Because I’m not. They’re your legs, so what if they’re skinnier? It’s what happens, it’s not going to bother me.”

 

“Okay, I just wanted to warn you.”

 

“There’s nothing to be ‘warned’ about. Shut up.” Pete whacked Patrick on the side of the head before proceeding to help him get dressed.

 

Patrick got his jeans off down to his ankles and Pete helped to slide the pants off over his feet. He quickly grabbed the new pair to try on, but Pete grabbed his wrist to stop him.

 

“Stop panicking. Patrick, your legs look fine.” It was the truth. Sure, they were weaker looking and lacked muscle mass in the obvious areas, but they didn’t look too thin. “They don’t even look atrophied that much.”

 

Patrick shrugged. “They’d probably look worse if I didn’t gain so much weight. At least some of the fat went to them so they don’t look as fragile. I mentioned a physical therapist...well I still use her. Not to teach me how to transfer or use my chair like before, but to help me exercise my legs.” He handed the jeans over to Pete, allowing him to help slide them on.

 

“What kind of exercises?” Pete was curious. What could be done if Patrick couldn’t move them?

 

“Just like having me lie down and she moves and stretches them. She does the bike motion for each leg and some other exercises. She also does some for my ankles and massages my legs. It’s not difficult or anything, I just live alone and have no one to help me so I need to hire her.”

 

Pete frowned, pausing as he pulled the pants up Patrick’s legs. “How often are you supposed to be doing this?”

 

“Three times a week usually. I told her you were coming to visit and to hold off but she wants to come by tomorrow so I don’t get too much off schedule.”

 

“You do know that I could have helped you with these exercises...right?”

 

“I...you’d do that?” Patrick seemed surprised for some reason.

 

“Hell yeah, man. I’d love to help. How ‘bout we ask her to give me some lessons and I can try to do the exercises myself.”

 

Patrick just blinked at him. “Yeah...okay. I...thank you. I just can’t believe...none of this seems weird to you? Having to move around my limp legs so they don’t waste away wouldn’t freak you out?”

 

Pete sat down on the bench next to Patrick. “You don’t get it do you? There’s nothing to be freaked out about. It’s just your legs. They are still a part of you even though they can’t move. The whole process of exercising them is different of course but it’s not weird at all.” He sighed sadly, taking a deep breath. “Trick, I...why can’t you realize that I see you the same as I always have? Having to do stuff differently doesn’t change anything. It’s only weird if you make it out to be weird.”

 

“It’s hard to think that way when my own mom can’t look at me the same.”

 

Ahh, so that was part of the reason. If Patrick’s family couldn’t come to terms with how he was now, how would Patrick ever be able to love and accept himself the way he was? His mom would have to come around eventually, but in the meantime, Patrick had to understand that Pete was nothing like that.

 

“She’s overly protective and being too much of a mom. She’ll eventually see you again as just Patrick and not as something broken.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and rubbed it softly. “I used to know everything about you. I want to know everything again, including your physical therapy and how I can help you. I even want to know the troublesome stuff like how you’re feeling because your mental health is important. You’re important. So stop acting like you don’t matter.”

 

“I...uhh...okay.”

 

“Now I’m gonna lift you up and you pull the pants up. Hurry, I don’t want to get blinded by the whiteness of your legs.”

 

That, at least, finally got a laugh out of Patrick.

 

* * *

 

 

They spent the next half hour with Patrick trying on all the outfits and scrutinizing himself in the mirror. Pete told him he looked great in everything he tried on, and he honestly did. All the shirts fit him nicely and most of the pants did too. Pete ran out a few times to grab bigger sizes. Patrick wasn’t too pleased about that, but he didn’t start to degrade himself again either.

 

But in the end, Patrick seemed happier when they left with a few bags of new clothes. They went to another store to pick out a few new jackets and found themselves with no other plans.

 

“It’s still pretty early in the day,” Pete said “I’m sure you haven’t been keeping up on the newest movies. Want to see the latest Marvel one?”

 

Patrick’s face lit up. “Oh yeah. I’ve been dying to see it. Is there a theater near here?”

 

“I’ll check it out.” They moved to the edge of the sidewalk as Pete scoured Google maps. “Alright, there’s an AMC... 7 blocks away. Want to head there and catch the next showing?”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

When they got to the theater, they found out they had to wait 45 minutes until the next show started. Pete suggested that they hang out in the arcade that was off the lobby. Patrick seemed to love the idea. Most of the games he could reach just fine and he got addicted to a game where he had to stack digital blocks. Each row that was added, the blocks moved faster and eventually the three blocks turned into one, making it harder to reach the top.

 

When Patrick was on the last row and failed to stack the block, being off by only one tile, Pete shook his head in awe. “How are you even doing that? I can’t follow it at all and I feel like I’m getting whiplash.”

 

“It’s all about the beat. You hear the music that plays each time? All you have to do is press stop at the same point in the music every time.” He tried again, only for his block to look like it paused and then skipped right over where it should have stopped.

 

“Did you see that? What it just did? It...glitched.” Pete pointed dramatically at the screen.

 

“Yeah, it happened to me three times already. I think it’s rigged. But…”

 

“You don’t want to give up until you win, do you?”

 

Patrick smiled. “It will eventually have to let me win. I still have a bunch of singles.” He pulled out his wallet and looked over at the change machine. “Uh...there’s a lot of people over there….do you…”

 

“I’ve got it, Trick.” Pete put their bags down and took some singles from Patrick. While he waited in line for the machine, two teenage boys with cups of quarters were standing nearby, talking about which games to play next. Pete didn’t pay them much attention until he heard one of them bring up the block stacking game.

 

“...I’ve been waiting to get on that for over five minutes now. That chubby little guy in the wheelchair won’t leave!”

 

Pete felt his blood boil at those words, and instantly turned to glare at the boy who had said that. The kid didn’t notice him, instead looking over in irritation at where Patrick was waiting in front of the game.

 

His friend looked bored, like he had dealt with this type of behavior many times before and was tired of it. “Just ask him if you can take a turn. Stop getting so mad.”

 

“I don’t want to talk to him! He’s all nerdy looking and is probably a weirdo. What if he’s sick or something too, maybe I shouldn’t play it...it’s probably contaminated or something now.”

 

“The dude looks fine to me. If you’re going to be a baby, I’ll go over there and ask him myself.” The friend rolled his eyes and walked away toward Patrick. Pete saw his opportunity to jump in.

 

“Hey, kid.” He left his spot in line and walked over. The kid looked alarmed upon hearing Pete’s angry tone.

 

“A...what? Do you work here? I didn’t break anything, I swear!”

 

“I don’t work here, I’m here for the same reason as you...playing some games with my best friend.”

 

“Uh...okay…” His eyes darted around the room, presumably looking for Pete’s friend like he was afraid a big guy was going to jump out from the shadows and attack him.

 

“You know who he is? He’s that _chubby nerdy little guy in the wheelchair_. The one you wouldn’t talk to because you’re afraid of approaching someone with a disability.”

 

The kid’s face went as white as a sheet, realizing that Pete had overheard everything. “I...no. I...I’m sorry. Th-that’s not it. I thought he was sick…”

 

“Don’t give me that crap. That was an excuse. Just admit to it, okay?” Pete felt himself getting heated up. “You know better that not everyone in a wheelchair is sick. Does he look sick to you? And he wouldn’t be in public playing arcade games if he had some deadly contagious disease.”

 

“I...yeah, I know. I...I’m sorry. I don’t know why...don’t know why I wouldn’t just talk to him.” He seemed scared, as if Pete was about to punch him.

 

At that statement, Pete’s anger began to fade and he started feeling a little bad for the kid. “Look, I’m not going yell at you or hurt you or anything. I’m trying to educate you that it’s not okay to do that. Just because he’s disabled doesn’t mean your interaction with him would be any different if he could walk. He’s trying to go out and do normal stuff and have fun just like you.”

 

The boy’s face fell. “Yeah...I feel like shit.”

 

“Well, you should. Not exactly for being nervous to talk to him...that’s rude but it’s the reaction some people have since society doesn’t do a good job spreading awareness about disabled people. What was really shitty was how you used those words…’chubby and nerdy’...as a means to insult him. That’s not cool. There’s nothing wrong with how he looks and you shouldn’t judge him based on appearance either.”

 

“I...sorry I...I was just frustrated that I couldn’t bring myself to go over there and talk to him so I...just started calling him names. It was so stupid, I…”

 

At that moment, the friend reappeared and immediately started talking, totally oblivious to Pete and the discussion that was happening. “Vince...dude. That guy is like, the nicest guy ever. You’re an ass. His name is Patrick and he gave me advice on how to win the game. He said we can play it for as long as we want. Come on, he even said he can help us while we play.”

 

As the friend went to turn back around, he finally noticed Pete. “Oh, who are you?”

 

“I’m Pete. I’m Patrick’s best friend.”

 

“Oh, cool. Well, come with us too then.”

 

Pete couldn’t help but feel smug when Vince’s face fell after seeing Patrick’s big smile as they approached. He wanted the kid to feel guilty and also wanted him to learn where he went wrong.

 

“Ready to win this thing?” Patrick asked, still all smiles. The interaction with Vince’s friend probably brought his spirits up. There was no way Pete was going to tell him what Vince said about him and he hoped these boys were smart enough not to mention anything about it.

 

Patrick actually sat there and explained how to beat the game, tapping to the beat with his hands and indicating when to press the button to stack the blocks. The friend was all into it, talking to Patrick and laughing. Even Vince, who Pete could tell was still feeling guilty, took initiative to ask Patrick questions. After about 20 minutes, the boys actually ended up winning when the game didn’t glitch on the final row.

 

Vince took the iTunes card out that he won and handed it to Patrick. Pete’s eyes widened, maybe this kid wasn’t so bad after all.

 

“Oh, I don’t need that. You guys are the ones that won it.” Patrick refused to take the card, shaking his head.

 

“The only reason we won it was because of you. It’s only fair.”

 

“No, I couldn’t…”

 

“Patrick, bro. You are too nice for your own good. I’ve never known anyone to turn down money. Take it.”

 

Patrick raised his eyebrows at the way the friend was talking to him, but shrugged. “Okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

 

“Thanks for helping us,” Vince said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “You’re really cool.”

 

“Hey, it’s no problem. I know a lot about music so I had this game figured out.” He looked at his watch. “We have to head to our show but you guys have fun.”

 

As they left, Pete fist bumped Patrick on the shoulder. “Your such a nice guy, bro.”

 

“Oh my god shut up. I almost burst out laughing at that. But they seem like good kids, maybe they can win a prize of their own.”

 

“All thanks to you, duuuude.”

 

“Shut up!”

 

They were in good spirits, buying some popcorn for the movie and entered their theater room through the handicap entrance that took them up to the topmost rows. Patrick didn’t even seem that embarrassed, wheeling right up to an empty space that was meant to fit his chair. Pete sat down in the seat that was next to him while the previews played.

 

“You know,” Patrick leaned toward Pete, whispering. “I actually like this. I mean, how the handicap section is set up in theaters. How we are in our own little aisle and there’s only room for both of us. There’s less people around to annoy us.”

 

“You mean like having a crying kid next to you, or an obnoxious teen boy that has to make vulgar comments through the movie? Or someone that puts their feet on the back of your chair?”

 

Patrick giggled. “Exactly.”

 

“I’m glad you’re having a good time, Trick. I Iove seeing you smile.”

 

“Uh oh, don’t try and make a move on me in a dark theater.”

 

Pete couldn’t describe the amount of happiness that filled his heart upon hearing Patrick joke again. He smiled to himself, leaning back to watch the end of the previews. He’d call this trip into the city a big success.

 

* * *

  
  


Patrick was worn out. It had been an amazing day, but he was ready to get home. Even though he hasn’t had dinner yet, he really felt like he would pass out as soon as he got through the door..

 

Pete had been awesome all day, from dealing with his almost-breakdowns to doing things Patrick would like. He had made sure he was comfortable, but never hovered too much. While they were waiting for the next train to arrive, the two of them went over to a park on Lake Michigan to relax, and Pete let Patrick talk his ear off about the movie and what direction he thought the sequel would go in.

 

He hadn’t felt so happy in a long time. He should have known it wouldn’t last.

 

It was when they got on the train, both of them feeling sleepy and not talking much, when Patrick’s mind began to wander. He thought about everything they did today and how maybe, he could get adjusted to going out in public again and not continue being a hermit. Things didn’t go perfectly, but they certainly didn’t go badly either. All in all, it went much better than he expected.

 

The main part of why he had felt so comfortable had been Pete. He remembered what he told himself on the train ride into the city, as long as he wasn’t alone and had his friend by his side…

 

It hit Patrick just then. He wasn’t sure why it had taken this long. He knew that in the back of his mind, he had known this all along. He had just wanted to hold onto the fantasy for as long as he could.

 

Pete was going to go home in a few days. To California. He couldn’t move here even if he wanted to, because his son was there. All his visit had been was a nice little distraction until the hell his life had become resumed.

 

Who knew the next time he would see Pete, if at all? He couldn’t keep taking trips out here when he needed to be close to Bronx. Pete had a life in California that didn’t include him. Patrick had absolutely nothing but a broken body and shattered dreams.

 

Nothing was ever going to get better. He couldn’t do this without Pete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: lots of angst ahead in the next chapter!


End file.
